Blood In The Water
She sat cradling his head. He was cold. So cold. She wanted to know he was alive, know he was well, remember his smiling face.
Now a grimace. A bloodied grimace.
The water was at her feet. It lapped over the cold, metal steps of the boat as she cried. Salt and copper filled her nose. She could hear screaming. People were always screaming. They wouldn't stop screaming. Always screaming. She didn't care. He was dead. Why should she ever care? He was dead. Nothing else could ever matter. Nothing else to ever care about. He was dead.
A bloody arm floated past the boat. It still wore threads of his white shirt and his yellow jacket. They blended in with the red, green, and blue of the water. She looked at it, numb to the sensations of further tears.
She hunched over the head in her hands. She leant down and grasped the other hand, still attached to what was left of his torso. She could hold his hand again. It was cold. It was stiff. But it was his hand. The hand he held he with, when he was warm and loving. When he was her world. When nothing ever died, and all they had was life. Sun light. Youth. Freedom. Hope.
Darkness covered her, and swam within the waters. Darkness was all she needed. All she could ever want. What was life without your love? What was life, when she had promised to follow him to the end of the world, and beyond? Nothingness was all she needed. Nothingness was all she wanted. The darkness in the water. His darkness. His end. She could go no further, but to go back, no. She was on the edge of the world, looking down into the darkness, the water of the sea disappearing into nothingness. He was just there, below the surface. So close she could nearly touch him.
Hands. Other people's hands. Interfering, distracting from her love. Hauling her onto the boat as she clung on to him. She held him, even as they screamed. Even as teeth reached out. Even as her end passed by.
She watched, and she cried. They had taken away her end. Her last chance to be with him. And yet, she could never leave him. Not here, not ever, so cold, so stiff, so alone. She could never leave him.
Now a grimace. A bloodied grimace.
The water was at her feet. It lapped over the cold, metal steps of the boat as she cried. Salt and copper filled her nose. She could hear screaming. People were always screaming. They wouldn't stop screaming. Always screaming. She didn't care. He was dead. Why should she ever care? He was dead. Nothing else could ever matter. Nothing else to ever care about. He was dead.
A bloody arm floated past the boat. It still wore threads of his white shirt and his yellow jacket. They blended in with the red, green, and blue of the water. She looked at it, numb to the sensations of further tears.
She hunched over the head in her hands. She leant down and grasped the other hand, still attached to what was left of his torso. She could hold his hand again. It was cold. It was stiff. But it was his hand. The hand he held he with, when he was warm and loving. When he was her world. When nothing ever died, and all they had was life. Sun light. Youth. Freedom. Hope.
Darkness covered her, and swam within the waters. Darkness was all she needed. All she could ever want. What was life without your love? What was life, when she had promised to follow him to the end of the world, and beyond? Nothingness was all she needed. Nothingness was all she wanted. The darkness in the water. His darkness. His end. She could go no further, but to go back, no. She was on the edge of the world, looking down into the darkness, the water of the sea disappearing into nothingness. He was just there, below the surface. So close she could nearly touch him.
Hands. Other people's hands. Interfering, distracting from her love. Hauling her onto the boat as she clung on to him. She held him, even as they screamed. Even as teeth reached out. Even as her end passed by.
She watched, and she cried. They had taken away her end. Her last chance to be with him. And yet, she could never leave him. Not here, not ever, so cold, so stiff, so alone. She could never leave him.
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