02-05-2019, 04:10 PM
All of the voices inside of my mind will never be silenced
The water laps rhythmically against the sand, a ceaseless ebb and flow that clings as desperately to the winding shores as she does. She couldn’t seem to help herself anymore, couldn’t stop the way her feet would bring her to the water’s edge. But it seems she cannot get more than a toe into the crystalline waves before fear drives her backwards.Those waves are compelling, seductive, calling endlessly to her. But she is plagued by fear, uncertainty. Ever since that day when the water had swallowed her beneath it’s hungry surface. Her frantic struggles had proven useless against it’s pull, her screams silent in her throat as it had dragged her down, tossing and tumbling her small body until she hadn’t known up from down.
She still remembers the fire in her lungs, the first stinging, burning inhale of salty water. She remembers the blackness, a blessed relief from terror, from the pain in her chest and spasming muscles.
And she remembers the silence. For the first time in her entire life, she had heard nothing. No voices in her head, screaming, whispering, endless. Momma had told her they would always be there. But Momma hadn’t told her the water would silence them. And perhaps that, as much as any instinct that now resides within her, is what calls her, time after time, to the water’s edge, despite the fear that clutches cold, cruel fingers into her heart.
She doesn’t know how she had ended up back on the beach. Doesn’t remember anything after the darkness had claimed her. She only remembers waking on the sands, seaweed clinging to her legs and neck just as the mark of the ocean had somehow bled through her entire body. Had left her irrevocably changed.
She had heard the way it had affected her parents, unable to avoid their thoughts. And as she stares at the water, inching forward until it laps her hooves, she wonders if it could help her forget. Her feet shimmer with faint pearlescence each time the water washes across them, as lovely and delicate as the seashell they now resemble. Feet that are both hers and not hers, just as the thoughts that clamor in her mind are hers and not hers. Just as the body that had blurred from red and white into ocean blue and seashell is both hers and not hers.
It’s tempting, to lose herself beneath the waves once more, to forget all the things that had gone wrong that fateful day. A siren song that only deep-rooted fear could keep her from answering. She already knows what waits for her there.
until I can find a way to let go of what we left behind
persea
@[lynx]