I wrote this about a year ago, literally right after I saw this scene. I decided to post it when I found out that there was actually a section to post it in, so here you go!

Henry's Last Thoughts

Henry was hanging onto his mother with a tight grip. He could see Mark slipping from the corner of his eye, but he wasn't at all worried about it. Why should he be? It was his mother up there, not Mark's, whatever he may say. Of course she would choose her own son over the blue-eyed intruder that had ruined everything for him.

He could see his mother glancing at the two of them, but he noticed that she held Mark's gaze the longest, probably staring at him to remember his face since she would never see it again.

As Mark's grip loosed on his mom's, Henry grinned more and more on the inside. Henry had told her that he loves her, and he figured that that was all it would take for her to forgive him. He said that he needed her other hand, so she would have to give it to him. He was her only son left after all.

"Help me," Henry could hear Mark whisper. Whispering was all he could do. He was frozen with fear from the inside out as he hung from the fingertips of his aunt.

Henry wasn't worried though. He knew that his mom would help her son and, best of all, he would be able to watch her do to Mark what he had been waiting for since he arrived. He would fall to his awaiting death on the pointed rocks and icy water below, and then Henry would smile as his twisted conscience acted as if he had nothing to do with it.

Henry wasn't afraid. He couldn't be, because by this time, he didn't know what fear was.

His mother turned to him and looked deep into his eyes. Henry felt that she was going to let go of Mark soon. But then she whispered the last words he would ever hear, "I'm sorry, Henry."

Henry didn't have time to feel afraid, because once she tore her gaze from his, she shook her grip from his arm and grabbed Mark before his fingers would slip.

He screamed as he flew through the chilly air. As the wind blew past him, his small life flashed before his very eyes. He saw everything bad he had ever done: drowning his helpless baby brother, shooting a dog that had only chased him, causing a giant car crash, throwing his sister onto the thin ice and waiting for her to go under so she could join Richard, pushing his own mother off a cliff, and trying to choke his cousin to death. Everything seemed so vivid.

His fall seemed to go in slow motion for him. As he went down, a pain went through his stomach; through his heart. He didn't know what it was, but any person with a working conscience would have recognized it as guilt. For the first and last time in his memory, he felt guilty for all the things that he had done.

Fear may have crossed Henry's mind for a split second before he hit the rocks, but there was one thing for sure: Henry wasn't afraid to die, even though that was the only thing that could stop him. He got his chance to fly, but in doing so it ended his short, sadistic life.