She feels safe in the heart of the lake. The gentle current nudges her but she is tangled in seaweeds, her hair is caught in the rocks and she remains where she had sunk. In the blessed darkness, in the water-clogged silence, she can finally sleep for a millennium of nights. Everything seems so slow and far away where she is. The water swirls in a drugged sluggishness, cradling her the way her mother never did.
She wonders about him up above - it seems so distant and so otherworldly. She wonders if he would remember her years from now. The girl who drowned. It sounds so romantic, so tragically beautiful that she almost want to drown again. The feel of water rushing into her lungs, filling her up, squeezing the emptiness out of her soul...
She longs to be remembered through stories told; how she had been forced to swallow her fears, her voice and finally her love. The stories are bubbling inside of her, threatening to spill. If she opens her mouth it would all come tumbling out: black and viscous, putrid and repugnant. It would pour from her; from her mouth and her eyes and her ears until she is flaccid and depleted.
Lying at the bottom of the lake she muses about the greatest love stories ever written: of Romeo and Juliet and Cleopatra and Mark Antony. He loved her and she loved him. And now that she's dead, her's will be a love story amongst star-crossed lovers.
This story is so tragic and beautiful. She's so full of passion. Death usually comes with different feelings. Like, if this story continued, the people who found her body would probably feel fear at seeing her. The people in her life would feel sorrow and grief. But as she's drowning, she feels neither of those things. At least, that's what I get from the story. It's a great story. You're a very good writer. I also love the title of your blogs, "The Savage Garden". And the artwork through out your blogs is amazing.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much! You're a writer?
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