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That bench is like a trampoline and she's about to splash into the world - the wild, wild world where things are solid, sharp and real.
But Cassie doesn't really feel like doing it, drowning again, oh wow, just no - she's not ready and thinks maybe she never will.
Most of the time, she prefer to stay in her bubble of shiny little lights and dizzy funny things, dreaming to fade away in the air or, like, nowhere - nowhere is cool, 'cause it's a safe place, you know, none or nothing can hurt you there, it's almost like you don't exist at all – and that's a feeling Cassie both loves and hates.
The truth is, she was given a gift, or maybe a curse: sometimes she sees the future and the pain to come, and it's almost unbearable - even to understand - for her.
So the question is still the same - stay up and lose herself (disappear for good, disappear for fucking real, echoes' whispering inside her head) or jump back into life?
And this is where it comes - the wind and its revelation, speaking with a voice Cassie'd known from what it seems forever.
(“I care.”)
Her feet touch the ground.