Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/808537-Trial-of-the-Hurricane
Rated: E · Appendix · Personal · #808537
My soul... as a hurricane would strike it...
I have been here for hours, his mind noticed with a gentle realization, these winds twisting and cutting as the giant storm approached closer and closer, seeming to head right for him. He arrived here at this hill, at the water’s edge, to be alone once more, and yet, he had known something awaited him at this place.

Standing alone under the hurricane, its winds ripping at his face, droplets of rain seeming to cut into him, he stare at the eye of the storm so far off and felt wistful, wondering why that peace passes over him and leaves so swiftly. Turning his face back up the clouds, he closes his eyes and asks softly, "why?"

His hill erodes beneath his feet, the waters carrying away his foundation with each crashing wave. How can one stand-alone and not fall? He hears the words that cut into him again, turning his face from the sky, unable to hide on the barren wasteland that is his world, his heart worn and shredded like the earth surrounding him.

Hearing the cries of anguish and pain, slicing through his barriers, he turns his body to block the awful sounds, but the wails move across the plain that is empty from ripping away everything he hold dear, all his sanctuaries uprooted and thrown to the raging storm, its watery walls and winds of hatred breaking all walls. A silver tear slipped from his eye, its surface cold as ice on his skin, and it seemed to freeze wherever it touched. Countless tears had traced similar paths down his cheek, releasing his pain to the silence of his solitude.

All the years of grief, all the pain and rage that had been hidden away after being abused and tortured, it came out at last in this storm, dragging his heart away and stealing his hope for better days. His life was fading, everything had disappeared from his possibilities around him, nothing made want to live on, what could possibly make a broken soul keep moving? If one had to live without a reason to exist, it is a waste of not only their time, but the time of everyone that cares.

Arms reach out towards a vision of his past savior, his love, and he feel the tears burn against his cheek, their salt seeming to intensify the wind’s edge against his face, and he rubs them away with his sleeve. Turning back to look over the sea, realizing his hill is almost gone and he smiles sadly. My world is almost gone, what does this mean, shall I slip away once more? Why not, the voice asks inside him again, nothing is useful when you are alone again.

Abandoned by his heart and mind, waiting for the waves to crush his spirit and wash him away, throw him out to sea, bury him under the innumerable waves and slip him where he cannot be brought back from. Is this my destiny? Has it at last happened as she always worried it would, as I always expected? Knowledge of so many ways to hurt, finding no solace in anything anymore, who cares if I disappear? The waves lap at the lowest levels, brushing his feet and washing over his legs, reveals that which he stands on is at last, a graveyard of forgotten pains, and stolen memories.

His eyes open slowly, revealing the hollow that is his soul, and a look of pain crosses his stoic features, revealing at last the things he has sheltered in the deepest places of his heart, his mind, his soul. Those things that none were allowed to see, because he could not bear to burden them. On his back the yolks of all he care for lay, his mission to take on their pains successful. Alas after so many years of his pains, he took on theirs as well, and made it his duty to comfort them.

Then a silver light shines from in his hand, and he look down to see the cross he was holding, its radiant surface like that of a lighthouse, trying to lead him back, and stared at its platinum bars. What purpose is there if his world is gone, he ask myself, to hold onto such a simple thing? Raising his arm to cast it to the wind, to the waves that will soon take him, but he cannot. Lowering that same arm he opens his palm and gazes into the cross once more, wondering silently, am I already gone and am only trying to ease my last moments here on this desolate plain?

Struggling to seek the peace he so deeply desired, the face turns softly into the wind again, attempting to stand up to that which he has hidden from for so long. The icy drops dig into his worn face, but he does not bow away from them, instead stepping forward into the waves, challenging them with his heart, which was now actively questioning the reason his pain was attacking him in such a way.

"Why, why must I face these in such a way, why can I not simply learn to let these things go and find the peace in my soul? Do I deserve this, does it matter if I do?"

As the silver chain in around his neck warmed against his skin, he felt his heart turn to that which he found so difficult to give his pain to, his anguish given to that one person that could releive his burdens and ease his pain, and he felt the wings slacken, and seem to retreat. His heart pumped strongly, warming his body with a fresh heat, and his fingers reached up to touch the single tear that stood frozen on his cheek. It brushed off onto his fingers, the tiny drop a ice crystal in his hand, not melting on his glove.

"These tears... must be let out... or I can never heal. I must... give it up, and let them out, let them go, or I will be taken by these waves, and slip under the waves of my anguish and never be seen again."

With that he turned away from the hurricane and stepped out of the water, allowing his pain and memories to be carried away in the rushes of water, his own legs unwavered in its pace as he made his way to a place where he would be safe, after so many years, where he knew he would find his solace. His cross continued to radiate its soft heat, warming his chest as his heart continued to push warmth through him, at last reaching the place he was searching for.

The Cave's opening gaped like a mouth, but he stumbled inside anyway, his clumsy steps carrying him to the back of the cave, where he slumped against the wall and looked out on the rain, a fire before him as he bowed his head and tried to find that part of him that trusted his reasons for being here. His lips moved silently and released his words silently to the cave, his breathing echoing faintly as he tried to heal. "Forgive... take this pain... these burdens, release me from their chains."

With that he collapsed against the wall again and slipped out of his concious mind, the fire burning brighter, and his silver cross shining brightly in the firelight. Outside the hurricane faded, its winds disappearing from his ears and its drops stopping their downward force. The first step had been reached, now the young man had to grip it and let it all go, before he could truly heal as he wished.
© Copyright 2004 Abdiel Tirimas (dragoonwings at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/808537-Trial-of-the-Hurricane