The air was filled with smoke and stunted plants. The whole ground was dotted with stones that you can't even place a foot on the sand.
The rose's bloomed and filled the air with pungent sweet smell but Mary could only smell death.
The cloud was clouded. She had no better way to describe the cloud which was witnessing this ordeal and remained the same. Not even a tear came down from the sky. She was in pain but it did nothing.
The ground was peculiar which Mary loved a lot but as she laid on the ground, she was absentminded.
She raised her palm to her forehead to shield his eyes from the sun, and had a fleeting look at the sky, but even due she could also wipe away the tears on her cheeks, she didn't.
She grasped the stone which was buried deep in the soil and tried to move farther from the cliff but she was weak. She couldn't even shift from her normal position.
She knew that falling down from there would be death.
Where was my husband? She thought.
But she remembered that she was the one that sent him away to buy something for her, because he won't allow her to explore the cliff with her pregnancy.
Mary wanted to know how the cliff looked. How tall it was.
But she didn't think about falling. About giving birth at any moment.
Now, her child is coming out. She could feel it, inside her stomach, down there, coming out, pushing, struggling to come out to live.
But who would tell her that she wasn't going to live. That her own mothers' youthful exuberance was going to kill her.
That she will fall as soon as she comes out, because her mothers' legs were spread out of the cliff, out of the crest.
Almost dangling on the air.
She felt something down her body and knew that her child was coming out, certainly.
Why now? Why now!
She closed her eyes and tears filled them and vibrated her eyelids. She didn't know what to do.
Tears! Hot tears! Came down from her eyes and she licked the salty tears with pains.
She should have listened to her husband and avoided the cliff.
But regret was nothing because her one single mistake would take two lives; hers and her child.
"Ooh my child!" She wailed and closed her eyes and layed stiff.
"Cut!" She heard.
"What are you doing like this? Pretend as if this was a real cliff and you're giving birth." The director said.
"You're not crying enough." He added.
"Now start afresh."