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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2023242-A-Solemn-Voyage
Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #2023242
A person lost in melancholy finds their destination on the precipices of reality.
         
My eyes open, the ceiling of the cabin greets me, the cabin is small and cramped, filled with only the necessary things I need to make it to my destination. Outside the door the sounds of the ocean are once again calling my name. Balance is a learned skill on vessels, it took me many days to learn the ways the ocean rocks and jerks the boat. I stand and pull on my clothes before reaching for the anti-depressants in the cupboard next to the bed. I pop a pill in my mouth and head out the door and onto the deck. All at once the air floods my senses. I can taste and smell the Atlantic Ocean as it's salt clings to me. I can see on all sides the dark gray sky melding with the deep blue ocean. Whispers are carried to me upon the wind tempting me to go astray, but I must stay the course. Those who would whisper to me, I can feel their eyes on me but in this endless expanse I cannot discern from where they stare. All at once my thoughts dissipate as a lone island rises to greet me on the horizon line. I, without thinking, quickly steer my little ship towards the rising mass. At first glance the island seems barren and inhospitable, there are no beaches, only cliffs that seem to rise into the heavens. Upon my second glance at the island I start to make out life, seagulls nest on the cliff face and their calls can be heard above the crashing of the waves. Far to the left my eyes catch an opening in the otherwise mundane cliff side, a cave nearly a quarter of the way up the slope looms like a dark abyss yearning for a feast of flesh, yearning for me. I bring my boat to a stop underneath the opening and grab my climbing gear from the trunk inside. As I prepare for the ascent I look up to see what looks like a hundred humanoid shadows staring down at me from the mouth of the cave. In the blink of an eye they were gone, retreating back into their sanctum of shadow. I throw my grappling hook and get a hold near the cave, I take one last look at my ship and begin the climb. half an hour and a lot of effort later I reach it and crawl into the start of the cave, I throw the rest of my gear into the cold water below, I will not be returning. For some time I just sat in the opening staring at the darkness that lay ahead of me, I could not be sure but I swore someone or something was staring right back. Eventually though I moved, breaking the odd trance that had engulfed me, I switched on my flashlight and took my first steps into the cave fearing for what was to come, if anything was coming at all. There was nothing unusual about the inside of the cave, it was just rock and cold air like you'd expect. It seemed rather strait forward in the way the cave had formed, one way ahead and one way back. After quite some time had passed that felt like hours to me I could see a faint light start to emerge ahead of me, the exit. I was relieved as all hell to be out of there but what now lay ahead of me was no pretty sight, vast fields of dead golden and brown grass as high as my waist. Around me the frigid wind danced past me and in between the grass, in a way it was almost comforting. In the distance my destination loomed, a small chapel on a hill. As I prepare to venture out into the waist high grass I see small child like shadows off in the distance running towards the chapel, they seem to periodically stop and look back at me and then continue. Once again I move forward, these shadows will not deter me now. As I wandered through the grass I thought of my life, what had gone wrong and what I could have possibly done to avoid this but inside I know this was unavoidable. Lost in thought I was surprised to arrive at the door of the chapel, it had seemed farther. Overhead a massive bell loomed its support beams creaking ominously, and the sky is growing steadily darker. I push the doors of the chapel open, all that greets me is dust and the smell of rotting wood. I turn on my flashlight and walk into the main room, at the other end of the building a statue of Jesus crucified watches my every step. Every inch of the place creaks and groans from age and ware, by now I have perceived the shadows gathering in the rafters above, looking down on me as if with a knowing pity. Ignoring them for the first time I search for a way up to the bell I had seen before entering, I have little time to waste, the shadows gather and the light of day dims. Finding the ladder I ascend it, all fifty-eight steps. When I reach the top I push the hatch up and climb onto the tower floor and stand next to the bell. In the distance the sun has faded to a small sliver on the horizon and time is almost out, quickly I grab a hammer on the ground and bash the bell seventeen times, waiting twelve seconds in between the hits. Then I grab a rope and tie a noose, wrapping it around my neck I stand on the edge of the tower, and then i fall forwards without a second thought, this must be done. On my way down into darkness time slows and I think about my life, my family, I think about whoever was chosen after me, in two years' time that person too will arrive on these shores and give their life. Lost on an ever blackening sea, the poor bastard.
© Copyright 2014 Mr. Paradox (paradoxtheory at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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