AN: I've never posted an original story before but…I'd really like to know what you thought, so you don't have to be kind if you don't want to be.

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Did you ever have that dream where you're falling? Everything's black then you hit the ground and wake up. What if you didn't wake up? What I mean is, what if you never hit the ground? You just kept falling. What if it lasted forever? Some people jump. They hit the ground though. But they don't wake up. Instead they start an eternal sleep. Why do people jump? How can everything be so bad that that's the only thing left? I don't understand it. I've lost so much but I'd never 'end it all' not now. Thinking back though, I almost did, once upon a time…

I can still remember the first time I saw her. It was my first day. I can still see her now. Gazing out the window, watching the rain. She was in a class on the opposite side of the courtyard. It never occurred to me that she should actually have been paying attention to the teacher in the classroom.

Our first real encounter was in advanced math later that same day. She was already in the classroom when I arrived. I always looked at people's eyes, you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes. Her eyes, oh God. And that smile. You could melt ice with that smile. But her eyes…

They were so deep. She could see into your heart and read your soul with those eyes. I thought for sure I was going to fall into them and drown. I don't know how long I looked into her eyes. It was obviously a long time.

"They change colour you know."

"Really?" I asked realising that she was looking right back into my eyes.

"Sure," She smiled. "They change all the time. Sometimes they're even brown. Keep watch and you might just see it."

And I did, as time passed. Her eyes changed depending on her mood. They were normally an intense green, but when she was very happy or excited they turned to pools of deep blue. When she was angry or sad they became liquid brown. No matter what her eyes were always bright and alert, even when they were brimming with unshed tears.

From the first day, we became good friends. She was so easy to get along with. We could talk for hours about something, or about nothing. And I learnt quite quickly how smart she was. Straight A's for as long as anyone could remember. We'd often work on mathematical or scientific equations together. I'm embarrassed to admit that sometimes she left me behind.

"They wouldn't approve this." I said one day before we commenced work on one such problem. It was about two months after out initial meeting.

"We just happen to share a fervour for science." She smiled, that smile, and I became a puddle of warm butter. I sighed and opened the door into the science laboratory. This was one of many get togethers. We weren't always in a lab or a classroom. We went out for coffee and sometimes even meals. It was a conversation over coffee when she first sparked what ever it is in a person's heart that makes them love. Not the kind of love I felt for my, then, significant other of only a month. But love none-the-less.

I was at the table reading when she came in. It was our table. We always sat there, in the corner near the window. As much as I studied eyes she studied human behaviour. She loved to watch the people walking past. We ordered. Usually we both had a flat white. Today though, I had my coffee and she ordered cocoa. I didn't say anything but the reason soon became clear. The waiter placed our drinks in front of us. She waited until he turned away before switching them.

"Not for a while." She said sipping the coffee.

"Excuse me." I said a little stunned.

"And a lot of other things are going to change. I'm going to take care of you."

"Why?"

"You know as well as I do, you shouldn't drink coffee when you're pregnant."

"But I'm not pregnant. I can't be."

"Yes you are. Of course you are. Take a test if you don't believe me." She smiled and sipped the coffee again.

I did. And I was. It was three months later when I told her what I felt and felt what she told me.

"It moved." I gasped. She reached out and touched exactly where I'd felt the pulse. She smiled and I felt better. Like I always did. "You're a sister to me." I said. "As much as this is my daughter."

"That's so sweet." She said softly and glanced away. When she looked back towards me here eyes were blue.

After the weekend I returned to school in low spirits. She ran up to me and hugged me. "I'm so sorry."

"How could you know?" I asked.

"I volunteer at the hospital on weekends. I was there, I saw everything."

I didn't last the day. I ran out of class crying. That afternoon she was at my house. She let herself in, she knew where the spare key was hidden. My husband was still at work. That left us alone. We sat silently for a minute. Then she asked me how I felt. "I want to die." I yelled in her face. "Leave me alone. I don't want to see you anymore."

"Don't go down that road." She said, calm as always. She knew well enough that yelling didn't get the message through. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You can conceive another child." I slapped her and ran out of the house. There was an overpass not far from my place. I ran and ran hard. I reached the over pass in good time.

I climbed onto the railing and watched the traffic. I closed my eyes and let myself fall. I felt like I do in those dreams. But something knocked me back. I opened my eyes and saw her falling. She'd jumped from the embankment opposite the rail and pushed me backwards.

She didn't scream as she fell and I couldn't bring myself to look. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away.

So here I am. In the same classroom I was in the very first time I saw her. It's raining now, just as it was then. It's been almost nine months since she fell but sometimes it feels like just yesterday, other times it feels as if it never happened, as if it were a dream after all. I can't help it, I glance down at the window where I first saw her and I can picture her there.

"Wait." Did I say that aloud? The class is looking at me, I must have. I shake my head and they return to work. I look out the window again and she's still there. Is she really there? I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm just running. I can feel the rain but I'm still running. It is her. She's standing in the doorway. Waiting for me. I hug her tighter than I ever have before. She accepts the hug and returns it with just as much affection. "I thought you were dead." I say.

"You think an overpass is enough to stop me?" She asks almost offended. She puts her hands on her hips and waits for my answer.

"I know God wouldn't take away my Angel."

"I'm no angel. Angel's can fly. I sure as all hell hit that ground."

"That's true." I nod. "They said you'd been taken back England, to your Guardian, they didn't tell me you were still alive."

"I told you you'd have another baby. Didn't I." She says changing the subject like she does when she knows she's going to cry if she continues.

"Yeh, you did." I nod again. I reach out and touch her, just to make sure she's really there. She smiles at me.

Six months fly passed and we fall easily back into our old routine.

"Mrs Anderson." Someone says. I look up at the door.

"There's someone here to see you. She says she's a student of yours."

"Show her in." I smile. Knowing it's her.

"Well Mrs Anderson, I don't know what to say except congratulations."

"Thank you. But I thought we'd decided that you'd call me Emily, when we weren't in class." I sigh. "Come and meet Ryan." I say showing her the baby in my arms. "Ryan, this is Lorelei."

"I'll call you Em, if you call me Rory."

"Deal."

"Aunt Rory," She smiles.

"Yeh, aunt Rory." I nod and sooth Ryan.