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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2229630-To-Live-or-to-Die
by Hey
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #2229630
A girl is taking comfort in her drowning. What will she do when her wish does come true?
Stolen. Everything in her town oozing it. Stolen hearts snatched like a crisp red apple plucked from a contradicting plush green tree, stolen homes fulfilled with family, happiness, equality, treasures, and in cases like this. Stolen breath. She was wiry, a pleasant candidate for a good anchor to drown her now and in life. Both eerily subtle rocking in the doom of death. The sea had always been her best companion, if not only. She took no pleasure in a blank human face, pity masking their melting canvases. Their monotonous tones that could oddly drown out nails on a chalkboard. No pleasure at all. She'd much rather listen to the rataplan of the lightning claps and pouring droplets hit sea beat boxing together. Might as well relish in the storm she'd swam herself into, so she stopped thrashing and started to thrive. She sat as the waves engulfed her translucently pasty skin in tide waves of miscommunication. She once took comfort in how the watered wrinkles in her palms held cushion to her lost strands of hair. Now lost strands turned to bushes suffocating her in inescapable vines. So she sat tranquil and watching her pastel yellow surfboard navigate it's way back to shore.

So she sat drowning at sea.

Holding the calloused hands of the water, she would die. With her only friend and family, whom was now propelling her in and out of breath, she would sleep. There would be no one to mourn her death, flicker tears onto her lifeless body. No weeping mother to settle posies on her grave but the waves. She would take comfort though in knowing her name would soon bore the top of a news headline. The kind set to catch your wandering eyes, Dead Surfer With no Life Decided to Certify her Future by Swimming Head on in the Midst's of a Storm. What a catch she was, what they didn't inscribe in the title though was how tasting death was her only life, her only stimulation. That she would do it again in a heartbeat.

This was it, her world was crystallizing in a haze. Her lungs water ballooned gushing with salt water instead of oxygen. Sinking she lay, not being able to stifle the peace she felt, seashells adorned with sunken ships, she couldn't deny such a mesmerizing welcoming mat. Morbid some ponder sure but she just wanted to be submerged at the ocean's floor, with bubbles and coral and fish. If only her newspaper had heard her last few murmur of words " I didn't die drowning or mistakes would've killed me long ago. I died desperate and misplaced in the world of above praying I would be found in the one beneath."

Closing her eyes expecting eternal silence or the slowing of her once pulsating heart she was instead greeted by a twinge of remorse, some regret and with urgency she came to a realization. She needed to fight for a second chance of living. She needed somebody to mourn her loss. To comfort her not glance at her atop a counter, thinking of how brainless a girl could be. There's always a reason to live. Yet, she spent too many minutes thinking of the reasons not too. You can't beat the clock. Stolen. In cases like her's life.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2229630-To-Live-or-to-Die