Briar
I crouch by the moss, my fingers fitting into the crook of the rock. It slips clean. I press through, peeling away the drip of ivy as I step into the spiral of stairs to the cavern below. I glance back. Sunlight filters through the leaves. It swims on the mossy ground. Soft echoes of snapping twigs and calls of owls fill my ears. The rustle of the wind cools my fevered face.
I turn into the darkness. My fingertips press near the column of stone, dragging along as I take careful step after step. Who knew my last look out at the Grove would be so lovely. What a wonderful last look of the world I struggled in. What a soft way to leave.
Steady drips of water echo as I travel deeper. My feet stop as the stairs cease. Swimming of cool water traces the ceiling of stone. The water bubbles, the twilight of it calling me near. My fingers trace my femur.
I would look so much better as bones.
I kick off my shoes, bending as I drag off my sticky socks. I toss them aside. The careful stone cradles my soles. I step forward, tugging at the hem of my loose dress.
This body is too small. My flesh is carved by other's hands, a product of seething hate. I, myself, a product of soft love. It's disgusting. This blood in my veins is not my own. It lives as two. Mother and Father.
Why did you decide to leave me? Why did you leave me in Brina alone? Why did you chase your dreams with me at your back? Are you still alive out there in the Four Towns? Why haven't you come back?
The itch of the hem meets my fingers. I draw my dress above my head. It drops with a thud in the nearing sand, small pebbles and chips of decades of the lapping water screaming to leave this cavern. I step into the sand.
It itches my feet. I can feel the heaviness of my face. I can feel the smooth slide of hair down my back. It itches my hips.
My eyes turn down. Lips tug into a frown. A watered-me glimmers in a small pool of water. How cruel to face your murderer.
My eyes are dark in the cavern, the circles of violet and blue ringing them. The flesh beneath stays puffy. My lips are cracked at the edges, they burn with each swallow. My throat pulls on old scars and bruises. I turn my head. A pale scar trickles down my jaw, spawning from my ear.
I remember the warmth of blood. If I wasn't a Blue-Eyed I would have favored a bloody death. I wouldn't take to drowning. It only seems right what caused this pain of mine to take my last breath. Isn't it?
My hands draw against my waist and hips. They pull out. If I wasn't pulled away from the streets by Hadron, I'm sure I would have been favorable. I would have made enough to live, to escape sooner.
Did I even escape? Is this just Hadron's hands pulling my strings? Is this what I actually desire?
I have to believe it is. It's the only thing I can think of to do next. It would solve so much. Wouldn't it?
I tug at the last layers of fabric. It pulls off my legs, and over my head. It drops beside me. The water laps at my feet. It's welcoming me, isn't it?
I step in, the water chilling my skin. I press forward, dragging myself through the Moon Water. A sigh escapes my throat as the water grasps for my face. It swallows my neck and hair, pulling me down.
The stone beneath the water pressed against my feet. I slip as I push up, arching my back. I lay there, arms stretched out as I float. Light scatters across the stone ceiling. It flickers as flames. It's like stars. I blink, warm tears slipping out of the creases of my eyes. I close them to darkness.
I'll have to get used to this. This darkness. It scares me.
Why am I here? To drown or to heal? Odessa said Moon Water heals. I came here to drown.
I wish Bastet was here. I wish someone would see me before I die. Am I going to die? What do I want? I want this. No this isn't okay. I don't know what else to do. There has to be something else. I want to try.
I want to try.
I want to try.
I pull my limbs down. Sweet air fills my lungs. Moon Water swallows my head. My lungs pulse beneath the flames of the water, chilling my body. Every piece of my body is alight. I peel open my eyes beneath the haze. My hands swim in front of me.
I choke, air bubbles rising above me.
Please let me die. Let me die or heal me whole.