She always stood by the sea at night. She always loved the noise it made, and her memories would crash with one another just like the waves did. Her pale skin remained the same after my Annabel died. She was just a body without a soul, my love, she was already dead before she died. her long pitch black hair would flow with the wind. I would watch my love from the balcony, and she would be happy. Something she never was when she was home. My Annabel was in love. but not with me, but with the sea. Because it gave her something I couldn't possibly give to her and that was comfort. Her favorite place was the cliff, where she would sit with her feet hanging.But on that particular night, her feet weren't the only thing that would fall from the cliff. My Annabel has died...