Kara [The Cove]

Kara [The Cove]

By Shikha Nair

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. The words echoed and repeated in her mind like a disturbed mantra. The Voice twisted and darkened, and the volume rose to a shout. Don't think about it, said the Voice, breaking into a series of howling laughter, sliding through her body, scraping at her insides like a gnarled claw. Kara pushed harder, propelling herself further away from the fear, away from the detestation, away from the Voice and its contemptuous owner.

Kara did not cry for everything that she had lost. She didn't know if she had any tears left at all.

Against her will, Kara could feel her legs slowing. Her lungs begged for air, her throat for water, and her feet for rest. Kara couldn't even remember why she was running.

In that split second of doubt, Kara stumbled and collapsed to the rough ground. At the very last moment, she threw out her arms to catch her fall. She crawled into a kneeling position and examined her scraped hands. Blood welled from crisscross gashes across her palms. The rigid ground had eaten away at the soles of her feet while she was running, shredding the flesh. Scarlet blood trickled into a steady stream.

Kara flinched at the sound of crashing waves. When nothing touched her, she looked up.

They called it Crawler's Cove. People usually came here on the weekends to do various illegal activities, but on weekdays such as tonight, it was empty and eerily silent. The full moon reflected off of the pitch black ocean in bright flashes of light. The waves collided with the shoreline, weathering the stone that lay beneath. Kara stared at this with a melancholy expression. It wasn't fair; the rock settled there first, perhaps even billions of years ago. Then the water came, destroying it with its demanding and forceful shove.

Kara shivered and glanced down at the mounds of sand she kneeled upon. She scooped up a dry handful of sand in her bony hands, letting the blood from her wounds seep into it, and peered at it closely. Each grain was a tiny and shattered piece of a whole. Kara wondered how they could find it in themselves to just drift away into the sea. She clenched her fist over the gray grains and they slipped through the cracks between her fingers.

Don't think about it, the Voice chuckled.

The remaining sand coated her blood-stained palms, glued on by the thick red liquid. She tried to brush them off, but her hands throbbed in protest. Kara gave up on trying to get rid of the dirt, and instead focused on the tiny pinpoints of pain. They consumed her, warding her from the memory of a pain far deeper than flesh and bone can travel.

Waves slapped once more against a slab of rock protruding from the ocean. The whip-like sound snapped Kara out of her reverie, yanking her back into the cold truth of reality. Kara shut her eyes and trembled. The temptation was becoming too great now.

Don't think about it, the Voice was a sinister snarl now.

Kara wished her demise would be as painless for her as it was for the rock, lulled to sleep by the rocking of the waves.

Kara opened her eyes, a sudden understanding transforming her features. She knew why, of all places, the Cove was where she was brought. She knew why the waves ground the rocks so mercilessly. The water didn't destroy the rock; it gave the new grains of sand a chance to choose their destiny, to go farther than they have ever gone before.

The waves swept over the beach again, but this time the waves spoke to her in gentle volumes. The end is near, the end is near, they chorused. Their assurance soothed her, burying the disparaging words of the Voice.

Kara rose to her feet and took steady and sure steps down the narrow beach. When her foot first hit the water, it made a resounding smack. She almost recoiled, but steeled herself and continued in her stride. The water was ice against her bare soles, caressing the torn skin. She kept walking.

The water was now up to her ankles, and she thought she might have trodden on a glass bottle, but the water froze her feet to the point of no feeling. Kara's mouth quirked into a peaceful smile as the water stole away her pain.

The water reached her calves. Freezing water was absorbed through her clothes, wrapping its icy fingers around her legs. It healed her with its frigid caress. Kara was up to her waist in the water, but she kept going.

Memories flashed through her mind. A smile she could no longer remember, the screeching of rubber tires, a funeral held on a rainy day, the raging enmity and lost sanity of her father, glares and a streak of endlessly drunken violence. The breath caught in Kara's throat and she choked.

The end is near, the Waves reminded her.

The water floated around her neck now. Her body was numb, but the pain was still there in her head. She struggled for breath as the memories attacked her more fiercely.

Empty cans and shattered bottles of beer. A rough hand striking her face and imprinting shame on her skin. A knife, flashing in dim lights and slashing at her. The images came faster, suffocating her. She had to kill the pain, now. Misery, all she could remember was misery.

The tide lifted Kara's feet from the ocean floor, thrashing her about in the waves. Her frail body swayed violently and Kara didn't even attempt to keep her head above water.

The end is near. This time it was Kara's thoughts that spoke to her.

Black spots blossomed across Kara's vision, and she embraced the dark. Kara let the water carry her away.

Finite

**Edited by Kat, re-edited by me, and read over by several other people. I hope you enjoyed it.