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Change. No matter how bad things are, as long as change is evident, there is always a chance that they may get better. And, without change, everything remains constant; including misery. The worse things get, the better they may eventually become – and the more they improve, the worse they may be as time passes. Without change, there is no hope.

I sighed. As anxious as I was, I knew that it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any change. Things had turned for the worst and then remained at a constant zero, never improving for hundreds of years. I was sick of it. Besides, if I didn’t do anything about it, who would? She certainly wouldn’t. Not after all I had said. And now, here I stood, peering over the edge of the cliff that was my life.

And once I fell? Once again, change.

Change was everything.

I let out a troubled sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from my pale forehead. Hands clammy, I gripped them tightly, looking around to make sure no one else was there. If they were, I’d be done for; this was a crime, after all. Ever since she had heard of my plans, we lost contact; and she went back to the coalition, telling them of my plans. They, in turn, passed a law, making it so that I’d be forever banished from the city if I left it.

Banished. Forsaken.

The words stung like the bitter cold of her stare the last time we met, just over two months ago. She was hurt, but she didn’t show it. She never showed any emotion, and this was what made her such a good politician.

Cold. Heartless.

And she made me look like the bad guy? Some girlfriend.

I looked at the fountain ahead of me, glanced at the sad reflection of my own face as it was distorted, twisted by the ripples of the falling liquid. Was this how she viewed me? It had to be, I reasoned, considering how she hadn’t contacted me in the past few weeks. I’d only heard from her through the others, who alerted me whenever they talked to her themselves. Naturally, she didn’t know about this; she couldn’t, otherwise I’d be in more trouble than I already was.

And that lead me back to my original plans, the anger, strife – and an uncanny hope – that they had brought upon my life. But I did it deliberately, and I had to explain that to myself. After all, what was the good in blaming others, when it was my own idea? There was none.

Either way, carrying out my plan was completely necessary. For it was a big change; and, without change, what would we have but despair?