We were meant to be, Anne whispered to herself, wind flying around her, words flying around the wind. Meant to be…She clutched a grip of daisies to her chest and strangled them, chanting:

Loves me.

Loves me not. Loves me…

She picked at petals. They floated down to her feet, scattered to the edge of the roof, then fell fourteen stories down, tossed about by the same wind that had its hand pressed against her back.

Loves me not. I love you Michael…

Six hundred thousand people below. Most of them wouldn't see her, wouldn't know her name, even those that chose to look up would only be gesturing at the sky - but not knowing who she truly was.

Her friends, if they could see her now…

they never thought much of Michael anyway…

…they would try to save her, keep her with them, but didn't understand that…even the ones that had been through the same before…didn't realise it was much too late. She was already gone, or at least it didn't feel like there was any life left in her. She looked alive but inside she was as dead as bones.

The stem of the flower fell. She didn't watch it fall. Said goodbye to the sunshine and the moon, both of them sharing the sky. Dropped the sash from her hair and tipped her head into her hand, pouring out tears. They were just the last ones to come out, saved just incase...

For her friends sake – for Abigail and Rachael – she tried to focus all the pain she felt, hold it still. Try to throw the pain away. Her fists clenched together in strain. But it was no good. The pain was still there, she was the one that was thrown away.

She had tried waiting. But nothing changed. Even pulled herself out of bed in the morning, just in case. But he was with her.

There was no bitterness in her.

No anger.

Just emptiness.

Michael once said she was an angel, made her smile, and with those words, sealed his fate. If she was an angel why did he leave her? If she was an angel, would she remember how to fly?

There was nothing for it, nothing else except to jump off roof and try to fly.

Anne remembered when flying came easy, when no matter what happened 'on the ground', even if the foundations of her life shook, she could rise above it. She could rise above it back then. So if there was any hope, anything left in her – anything alive – then she could fly now, surely. Or she could fall, having forgotten how to fly and finally been defeated by a strong gust of wind.

She smiled. How she'd love to be able to fly…

Flying would make her feel happy again, and free – she'd still wish that he could fly with her too though. Only happy for a day, then. Maybe two.

Flying would mean people below looking up at her, instead of looking at the sky.

"Goodbye city." She sniffed, and sobbed.

She smiled, even up as far as here hearing the honk of a taxi raised against another taxi. Caught her last lungful of Glasgow air, wind pushing more urgently at her back.

"Goodbye busy people."

Her feet took her past the edge, and she started to fall.

Anne's body tilted and span as it dropped to the ground, her left side falling first and absorbing the wind, long hair rushing up.

Half-way down now, she felt more convinced than ever that this was the right thing to do, and was ready to leave.

In the end, her thoughts had been ordinary thoughts about loneliness.

But she was no ordinary woman, from no ordinary place. She was not human, nor was she trying to kill herself.

"Goodbye planet." She said, thoughts fading now from Earth to her own home planet.

Wings sprouted from her back and beat against the fall.

She stopped falling now, still some distance from the ground, and carried on her journey from the building to the sky, from Earth to Neptune's moons.