Who Is She?

Chapter 61

Maybe it is better to end it all.

Vincent thought to himself as he stared at the- what appears to be a- bottomless pond.

It strangely had a calming effect on him. Or maybe he just didn't want to fight the inevitable.

He didn't have a life.

What he has can't be considered anything.... His life didn't have any meaning.

No one would even shed a tear if he were to die.

Not even his father. If anything, he'd be annoyed at having lost his heir. Or maybe, maybe, he'd be happy- as it'd mean more attention and if anything his father was excellent at, it was convincing people to be his mindless toys.

They wouldn't even realize they are being played for a fool.

His mother? He didn't have a clue who she was.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His muscles loosened- as it would before he starts to exercise- before falling forward into the pond with a 'splash'.

The water was cold against his skin. Freezing.

But it was soothing too. He drifted peacefully into the river.

Going deeper and deeper with every passing second.

His hands reached out, his fight or flight reaction taking control, wanting to save his body from the impending doom. Sensing something wrong with the body's owner. But Vincent forced his hands beside him. Something that took tremendous effort since his swimmer body had a mind of it's own.

Life wasn't worth fighting for.

It wasn't 90 seconds later before he felt his lung contract, with the intention of taking in as much oxygen as he could.

He fought hard- wanting to be in control of his bodily response. He flailed his hands under the water, shaking his head tirelessly, heaving.

He kicked his legs beneath him, visualizing a solid ground magically appearing underneath him which he could use as a stepping ground to spring himself to the surface.

It was exhausting to hold the breath than it was to let go.

Let go.

Let go.

He had to let go.

His body was screaming for him to let go. Take a breathe. And it was becoming more and more tempting as his lungs pulsed in his ribcage like a second heart, his internal organs burning. Every spasm sent an alert to his brain.

Finding it hard to fight, Vincent opened his mouth for air but was forced to gulp down the water and watched whatever air that was left inside of him turn into bubbles and float away from him.

His body turned alert, sensing danger.

Vincent kicked his leg, wanting to get out.

He wanted to die but his body didn't.

He wanted air. No, he needed air.

He choked and coughed, swallowing more water in the process.

This was it, huh?

He managed to form a coherent sentence one last time before closing his eyes. This was the end.

No one can save him now.

His hands spread wide, moving on it's own with the water- paralyzed.

As he felt a chain of memories come to him in a sequence, he felt something latch itself onto his jacket.