I knew what she wanted to do.

She wanted it so much; it wasn’t my place to stop her.

Instead I listened attentively. I showed my support and my understanding by not giving my opinion. If she wanted to hear it, I knew she’d ask.

“So you’ll find the key to the fire-safe between the box-spring and the mattress,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper now, after having given more or a less a monologue for the past ten minutes.

The ticking of the antique night table clock bothered me. It nagged and counted down the minutes of Chiao’s discourse. Every damn tick echoed louder and louder in my ears until it was excruciating to listen to.

Without warning, I knocked it off the night table, startling Chiao. Suddenly, my careless action made me regretful. Because of my own selfish needs, I could have lost her right then. But she had better reflexes than that. Regaining her composure, she sighed back her momentary trepidation. Rocking on her heels, she turned to face me for the first time since she started her soliloquy. I noted how sharp her features were. She’d grown up this past year, shedding baby fat in her cheeks, as well as muscle tone in her arms. She wasn’t so much adult-looking as she was undernourished cherub.

I loved her, but I don’t think she realized. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I watched as she once again turned her weary gaze to the open window.

“The safe has everything in it I want you to keep,” she stated. For an instant, she laughed and closed her eyes at some memory she was revisiting.

“Remember the birthday card you made? The one you spilled grape juice all over, in your excitement to give it to me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said with a fond smile.

“That’s in the safe too,” Chiao grinned, but didn’t look at me. From the profile view I had of her face, she looked deceivingly content.

“How old were we then?” I sidetracked.

“Eleven? Twelve?” Chiao offered.

I nodded my head, but I’m not sure she saw me in her peripheral vision.

“Anyway. It’s yours to keep.” Chiao’s words had an air of finality to them. They made me realize this was everything she wanted to tell me. She’d said all that she needed to say.

I noticed her left foot fidget, and knew this was truly what she wanted to do. She glanced back at me and smiled warmly. I returned an expression that probably only came off looking stiff and lost.

Chiao took a very deep, cleansing breath and expelled it into the night air. She jerked her foot again, and faced straight ahead in front of her. She never once looked down. She never looked back at me.

At once, the light breeze playing in the curtains got much colder, and it gave me goosebumps. Why did this moment last so long? Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe she’d had a change of heart after all.

But no.

Suddenly she just wasn’t there anymore. No more feet shuffling on the ledge. No more malnourished, slumped shoulders. No more Chiao. I did vaguely hear the swoosh of her frail limbs as they descended through the nighttime air. Like the wind had given her a safe landing. But I knew it hadn’t.

My body finally sprung into motion and I scrambled to the window sill. I frantically scanned the area below for any sign of her motionless body, but it was pitch black outside.

I felt myself trembling as I slid my fingers across the ledge that she’d stood on for over fifteen minutes, reciting for me not why she wanted to die but instead what she wanted me to do once she was gone.

She wanted me to accept her decision, and to know that I’d helped her as much as anyone could. She wanted me to hold dear the contents of her fire-safe. I didn’t even know exactly what she’d stored in there other than the handmade birthday card. But I would cherish it.

“I love you, Chiao,” I whimpered into the breeze.

Fighting the flood pressing through the back of my eye sockets, I walked over to Chiao’s bed. From between the mattress and the box-spring, I retrieved the key, exactly as she’d asked me to. I walked over to where she’d told me I’d find her safe, and gently wiggled the key in its matching lock.

Opening the lid of the safe, I stared into its darkness. Bracing myself for whatever surprise Chiao may have left behind; I blindly stuck a hand inside. I was perplexed to discover only a few sheets of paper.

I chuckled at the bitter-sweetness of my soiled birthday card. The paper had yellowed and my marker drawing had faded over the years, but the grape juice stain comically remained.

Flipping the card open, I read my pre-teen scrawl.

Dear Chiao,

I hope you have the best birthday yet.

Happy 12th !

Your best friend,

Yi Xuan.

I touched the faded ink and remembered us as kids. Blinking away tears, I placed the card back in the safe and examined the only other item. It was a piece of plain lime green notepaper; folded in half. I unfolded it, and tried to steady myself as I sat clumsily down on Chiao’s bedroom floor.

This was all she’d left for me in the ever-important fire-safe?

And then my heart hurt. I knew what it all meant now.

Yi Xuan,

I love you too.

Forever yours,

Chiao.

Her note was concise, and sent me into a heap of sobs I finally could no longer control.

When had she written this note?

She’d known.

How long had she known?

~ Write Like the Wind ~ Word count: 966