Alone. In the deepest depths. Here Mako was. Thrown overboard once again. Wandering. Searching. For what? Something to hold onto?
And what could that possibly be? A Torch to light the depths? Nay, for that would be extinguished by his own downpour of grief. These thoughts he pondered here, in the depths of a ship… Exile. Death. Folly. Recklessness and foolish courage. What came next? His life?
He closed his eyes, and let darkness creep towards him, a soothing balm over fresh wounds. He was home once more. A memory. His mother. His father. All that was left of them. His sister, a beacon of happiness.
And himself. What horrible changes. He used to be better. There was joy then. And now? What now? Where to continue? He looked down at his hands, his bloodstained hands. He quickly looked up, trying to keep hold, but of no use. Their faces turned towards him, their joy torn from their now broken bodies, their eyeless sockets turned towards him, their mouths screaming out, screaming, blaming, as water rushed from within them. What good was wrought with his hands? What now? What is it that shalt seek? Mako felt his head spin, as he fell down, down, down, into the abyss…
As his limp body descended, his family warped into monsters, still screaming, still accusing, until it was he was screaming, begging for it to end, for suffering to end, as he reached out in what was now a rage, now demanding, for the pain to end, for this nightmare to end, as he stabbed, ripped, and tore. And the blood was once again on his hands.
Its not my fault. But it is. Its all my fault. It was always. Please… My god… grant me one request…I have nothing left.
Mako woke with a start,
back into the living nightmare.
4 Likes