12 hours ago
I’m sorry okay —————————————————— Red and orange reflected off the calm, still ocean in the early hours of the morning. A figure, in a ragged cloak, stood at the edge of the water, far enough so the water didn’t touch his feet.
The chilly wind blew and the cloak swept to the side. The figure lifted the cloak’s hood off his head and settled it slowly on his back. The wind ruffled the unkept, brown hair of the figure.
He stood by the water, wanting nothing to do with it. The eighteen year old stood silently as the waves crashed before him. His blue-green eyes no longer held the color they had before.
He knew she hated the ocean but he couldn’t keep away from the the very thing that killed her. It was torture, torture he thought he deserved.
The memories of that day kept coming back to him, torturing him, keeping him from healing.
He came out here everyday, disputed the protests of his siblings. They blamed him for not being able to save her, for getting to her soon enough.
Everyday he stood by the water, torturing himself so that maybe one day he could go insane. Making him not know the difference between reality and dream land.
For the first time since her death he took a step forward so the water touched his feet. The water felt like needles, piercing through his skin.
He walked farther in, the cloak dragging him down. He was waist deep in the water when he heard the shouts of his family, telling him to come back.
He turned to face them, to make eye contact one last time. He saw the sad looks on their faces one last time before stepping backwards into the wave coming for him. Water fell above him, filling up his senses. “Come Jules, come with me.”