I looked down from the rooftop. Thirteen floors. The magic number. A symbolic number. The number of completion. I was also terrified.

It was my intention to jump, and this time I was gonna make it. 39 years of this hell was enough.

39 is 3 times 13. Full circle, huh?

I had a pretty self destructive past. Abusive parents contributed to it, then I seem to have been a magnet for abusive relationships. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't lash out against someone bigger than me and win, so I took it out on myself. So was my thinking most of my life.

At age 11, I'd tried to slash my wrists. No go. I cut in the wrong direction, just made a big mess, and got slapped silly for it. At 16, I tried a datura overdose. Nope, that didn't work either. I guess I didn't take enough, but it got me a trip to the hospital; and again I got the crap beat out of me.

17. That time I ran in front to a semi. That one was a close call. 3 months in the hospital. It messed me up pretty bad, and I still feel the occasional pain of where I broke the various bones.
I didn't quite heal right. At least this time I wasn't beaten up. Ha! And it cost my asshole parents thousands and thousands of dollars in medical bills. Muahahahahaha! If only I'd thought of that sooner.

25. In an abusive marriage, I tried carbon monoxide. The twit I was married to found me, and put a stop to it. Another thrashing is what I got. At least I had the sense to get a divorce. . .after I took a baseball bat to him and told him I was going to kill him if he ever laid a hand on me again.

Actually, I almost killed him then. It would be our last physical confrontation, not that the previous incidents were confrontations. They were more like massacres. He didn't press charges. It hadn't quite been self-defense, but more a preventive attack. He threatened me, I had my new weapon, so I fought back for the first time in my life. I'd called the cops on him a number of times before, so both me and that worthless then husband of mine were confident I would get off for self-defense if he tried anything from a legal angle. I took control of the relationship at this point via my anger my suddenly vindictive nature, and he couldn't handle that. Both of us instinctively knew I felt I had nothing left to lose, and that made me dangerous. We split up. I now made enough to support myself in my own right, so it was no big deal. We'd always had our own bank accounts, and we each left the marriage with our own assets.

I let him have the house, along with the mortgage payments I would no longer be helping with. I rented a cheap apartment. He lost the house 18 months after we split up. When I found out, I partied alone that night until I passed out. I don't think I ever had so many giggle fits in all my life.

Now. . .now I was alone, and living with a memory. A beautiful, seductive memory that never left me after I got myself almost killed by the truck.

There was life after death. There was also someone on the Otherside who actually cared about me. A beautiful, gentle soul who wanted nothing from me, but everything for me. I think it was male. Barely. Asexual nature. My memory was kind of hazy. It was a memory from a month long coma I'd been in after getting myself hit by that truck. I have no idea what his name was, or if he even told me.

I remember he had a horse. A golden horse with a silver mane. He let me ride it. I loved horses. I still do. I hoped in was an Arab. I remember having been taken by the animal's perfection.

My love had a soft, rather high voice. I think his accent was Scottish. Well, whatever. He had long blond hair from what I recalled, and though I couldn't remember the distinctive features; I remember he was the most beautiful thing I ever saw.

When I met him after my suicide attempt, I was furious; and not in a good way. I wasn't in the mood to make new friends initially, and I was very hostile toward him. Still, he stayed with me and won me over eventually. Like just before I got pulled back to my physical body.

I cried like hell as I was yanked away from him. After I came to in the hospital, I had a recollection of him; but was confused. I was still in an angry state, and in no mood to acknowledge all he had done for me just yet. I almost forgot about him. Almost.

The memories of my Otherworld 'angel' came back to me full force right after the first beating I got from the asshole that I'd married when I was 19. I chilled out to my husband after that. Any affection I thought I'd had for him disappeared, but it was either stay with him or go back to my parents. . .who probably wouldn't have taken me back. I just wasn't making enough money to live at the time.

After my divorce, I'd been through a few more attempts at relationships. I never got married again, but still. . . could I find someone who wasn't a control freak and a dick? It sure didn't seem like it. They all seemed so nice at first, but the true colours would always show up within a few months.

In the here and now, the memories of my angelic rescuer who watched over me on the Otherside were burning within me. I couldn't get him out of my mind. Over the past couple of years he started completely obsessing me. No one else would do. He was all I could think about. I didn't even want anyone else around me, and I became a very unpleasant bitch to share company with. I cut down everyone who even tried to talk to me, if it wasn't business. Needless to say, I was absolutely miserable; in addition to being miserable to be with.

So I look down over the edge of my skyscraper. So far away. Would I die on the way down, or at the moment of impact? The moment of impact would be so sudden, I wouldn't have time to feel it; right? I'd go out in a splat of glory, pain free? I might even put on a bigger show by landing on someone. That would be sooooooo cool. What kind of a mess would that make?

But my god, what a hard thing this was to do. I had to fight every instinct I had. Would I? Could I? Oh, why couldn't I know a heroin addict and his or her supplier? That would be so much easier. And if you didn't overdose the first time, you could always do it again. . .right?

But I didn't know anyone who was a drug addict of any sort, I sure as hell didn't know any supplier; and I was here now, longing for a ghost, hating life more than ever, and had a 13 story drop in front of me.

I got on the wall. I dangled my feet over the drop side. I wished there was someone else on the roof who would just push me when I wasn't looking.

I was being such a coward. I wanted out so bad, the opportunity was right here in front of me, but I just couldn't work up the nerve. Thank god I lost my balance and fell when I tried to get
back on the roof by swinging both my legs over the wall at the same time.

Is there a need to say that I screamed? Well, I did.

I had my eyes closed, I ended up going down back first; and all awareness of what was actually happening was blanked out from my head. Time came to a stop. I was aware of every nano-second of my life in an instant. My regrets, my victories. . .yes; I'd had some of those, my stupid decisions, my worst moments, and the few good moments that had actually worked their way into my hellish life. Everything. I saw it all from the moment of my birth to now. Including the one I was going to die for.

But then something strange happened. I regained my awareness, but I wasn't falling. I was floating down. . .like a feather. I saw a brilliant blue sky above me, and no buildings. The sky was lit, but there was no sun. Just an even blue light, without the tiniest bit of glare. I just drifted down in a motion that reminded me of myself swinging slowly in a hammock.

When my fall was broken, it was easier than if I'd just bounced onto a feather bed.

I found myself in someone's arms. The same one who met me after I'd tried to kill myself by getting myself hit by a truck when I was 17.

"Kendra! We meet again."

I smiled. His hair was actually more red than blond. He had beautiful wide, coal-black eyes. His face would have looked good on a girl, but was marginally more masculine. He was so pretty it almost hurt to look at him.

He was in a long white robe. "I couldn't forget you," I said. "I've been missing you for about 20 years. Are you an angel?"

He laughed. "Hardly. Christianity would call me more a devil. I'm from Ireland's Tuatha peoples. I'm just a Gate Keeper who shows people to their destination after they die. My name is Donn."

I suddenly panicked. "So you're just going to put me somewhere and leave?"

He shook his head, and put me down on my feet. If he hadn't put my arm around my shoulder, I think I would have cried. "No. If I were to do that, I wouldn't have wasted my time on you when you came to me at age 17, not that the time was wasted."

My memories of our first meeting were suddenly becoming clear. "I treated you like garbage when we first met."

"Your knowledge of who and what you really are were barred from you for the sake of the lessons you had to learn in this last life of yours. I knew this, and I knew why you acted like you did. You grew to like me, though. He pointed to his left. "And of course, I still share the company of the lovely Hesper."

I looked to the left, and the golden horse was there, with a grey. Hesper looked part Arab, and the grey looked full blooded. The grey had black legs, a black nose, black ears, thick black feathers, a black mane and tail. Donn gave me a slight push to start walking toward the animals, maintaining his arm around me. When I put my arm around his waist, he didn't fight me off. With our mutual hold on each other, progress was very slow; but I didn't care.

When we got to the horses, Donn disengaged himself from me. The grey also had an eel stripe down his back, and a few faint, darker grey stripes on the top part of his face, his neck, and his forequarters. The stripes were quagga-like, but he was all horse. He was a stallion. "Who's this?"
I asked.

An unfamiliar voice 'spoke' to me directly, but not like how Donn was talking to me. It was a mind to mind transfer. 'You can ask me directly,' 'sent' the grey to me. 'My name is Sean, and I've been waiting for you. It'll be nice to have a lady around to spoil me rotten.'

I laughed. "Donn, did you hear that?"

"That your equine companion is a demanding hedonist? Yes. They all are, but they make the best of friends. Just like cats, and horses can be just as witty and arrogant."

I think I just got high. "My equine companion? This horse is mine?"

Donn caressed my hair. "No. You're his. Kendra, I think I want to get you re-consolidated with yourself as quickly as possible. I'd rather do it now, all at once; as opposed to going the more general, slower route."

"Do you know me from another time?"

He kissed me on the forehead. "I knew you from the time I was born on Earth, and you were older than me. I know you from Bri Leith, when your name was Ultana. You were the head housekeeper, and you always had time for me when I was there."

My eyes started to tear. "Do you mind that I love you?"

He extended his arms. "You always did. Not that we will ever be lovers in the way you knew on Earth."

I embraced him back. "That's OK," I said as I closed my eyes. Suddenly my mind was innundated with all I ever was through the beginnings of my time on Earth, and my time between lives. Donn Ui'Midir. The Tuatha prince who spurned his royal title to be like the one true love of his life. . .Thanatos.

We were in a mind share. Since the days of Bri Leith, when we were in a state to have been aware of one another, we'd always been friends. In those first days, I thought Donn was the most adorable kid I ever saw. More well mannered, more inquisitive, and so damn cute. I'd wished he was mine, but oh well. A servant couldn't officially foster a prince, but then there was the unofficial.

In the mind share, I also experienced the most wonderful thing I could have ever experienced. He sent me the love he felt for me. It was pure, unconditional, and without the remotest iota of lust. I never experienced anything like that in my entire life. It was something I'd not forget in the last days of eternity.

Yeah, I know that doesn't make sense, but it was the only way to describe it.

I was re-united with a very good friend. I was happy at last, and this had been my last life.

Heaven wasn't a place. It was a state of mind.