By: Cailean Darkwater
So this is it. I am going to die.
The shock of icy water, moonless black overhead. Savage waves pulling me every which way. Insidious undercurrents dragging me under. Struggling, I can avoid the sea's cold, clutching hands long enough to give me some vague illusion of control over my situation. That's all it is, an illusion.
Eventually I'll become weary and those terrible claws will snatch me from my tenuous link to the surface world and bury me deep beneath the surging waters, a chill sacrifice to the dark gods of the sea.
I feel like I am stuck between life and death, bobbing up and down upon the waves.
There is no hope.
Even if I did have the strength, I don't even know where the shore is now. I could be so far out ... I don't know. I do know that my feet don't touch the bottom, I am definitely out of my depth.
I've popped back to the surface briefly, snatch a quick breath of air. While I have the moment, however fleeting, I thrash spasmodically in the water, arms upraised. I still don't know where the shore is, but if there is someone watching, I hope that they realize I am not waving, but drowning. And I do not have much time left.
This is my fervent prayer as the great beast of the sea yanks me down again.
I know I'm deluding myself. I don't even remember why I'm here, let alone know why anyone else should be. I'm resigned to my fate. I suppose I'm still struggling as some sort of base survival instinct, an animalistic snarl of defiance against the inevitable.
Over the splashing I make I can hear something - steady, sustained movement through the water.
Abruptly I am no longer dying alone, I am dying with an audience.
She's in no danger herself, seeming effortless she floats upon raging brine. She shouts above the crashing water, "You'll die if you stay out here. You have to get back to shore."
No kidding, sister.
She looks at me intently, and the storm, the waves, just seem to fade out, disappear from my vision. Her words are all I can hear, "I cannot drag you out. If you want to get to the shore, you will have to do it yourself. I can only guide you there."
In our brief moment of communion, I give my despondent reply; "I don't have the strength to get back, even if you show me the way. I'm already dead, I just can't admit it. It's over."
"GARBAGE! The HELL you are. You have the strength, but if you consider yourself dead, you will be. DAMN YOU, come back to LIFE! COME BACK TO LIFE!"
With this, the quiet interlude over, we are both thrown back into the swirling maelstrom.
Trying to make myself heard over the tempest, "I can't do it. I'm doomed. Leave now and save yourself. Don't die on my behalf."
"I have NO INTENTION of dying here. Do you? You have a choice, you always have choices. At the end of the day, you only have to ask one question: do you want to live or do you want to die?"
She looks at me again, and in her eyes there is the shade of lathed steel, shining blue. Beauty and strength intrinsically wedded together forever.
Moment of truth.
I saw that steel, that strength within her and I couldn't help admiring it, I wished I had such fortitude. Then I embraced the concept, the seeds of steel nestled deep in my soul.
"I want to live"
She smiled tightly, I knew that we were not safe yet
Speaking hesitantly, I requested her help once again. "Please, believe in me. I think, if someone believed in me I could make it to the shore."
She looked at me once again, steel eternal, I felt in awe of such strength. "You are right, if one person believes in you, you will make it. But it doesn't matter a damn whether I believe in you. It only matters that YOU believe in YOU. If you don't believe in yourself, who else will?"
Her words, her power, entered me, a thin lattice of steel strands growing longer and thicker by the moment.
"I am not going to be your strength. You have to be your own strength. If not you, who else?" she repeated.
I could feel the steel creeping through my soul, reinforcing the fragile walls, covering over the gaps and fractures, renewing, making stronger than ever before.
I didn't need anyone to justify my existence. I didn't need to measure myself against any standard. I didn't need to fill some cookie-cutter mold Destiny had decided for me. I was no actor in some cosmic soap opera, playing my part for some unknown audience. There was no such thing as fait accompli, any fate could be altered.
There's nothing here holding me.
I could do anything, the demons of fear, self-pity and apathy faded away as if they were tricks of the light, perhaps they had always been so. There was no reason why I could not survive; there was no reason I could not thrive!
Before I knew, it I could see the shore, white sand against dark waters. The clear night air was cold, I drank deeply of it as it chilled my wet flesh. Gambolling upon dry sand like a child, I turned to see her come out from the water.
The storm had died down and the moon came out, round and radiant, smiling down her blessings upon our survival, our victory.
I catch a proper glimpse of my saviour. I'm stunned, stock-still, speechless.
Her wings unfurl, she leaps upon the night breeze, aloft above me.
Majesty.
My guide, my teacher, my inspiration; an angel. An angel of bright steel, gleaming in the moonlight.
In that moment I knew that I loved her. Not some pathetic co-dependency support group for shattered lives. This was love based upon mutual strength. I saw that love reflected in those steel eyes; reverberating between us, amplifying upon itself; thunder upon thunder.
Feeling a change come over me I saw a sheen speeding across my skin. Strange rippling feeling in my shoulders, bursting free, releasing my own fluttering wings, newly acquired.
I caught the breeze and joined her in the starlit sky, metal upon metal, an air-borne kiss.
The moment seemingly lasted an eternity.
And then my steel slowly faded away, wings abruptly vanishing.
Falling ...
But she caught me, held on to me, gradually lowering us to the ground. She kissed me, cool metal on warm flesh and yet it still was wonderful.
I was not ready yet. But one day I would be.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Cailean Darkwater has written many interesting stories. In her words; "I write many inspiring stories relating to real world events. I am hoping to help people with my stories and make the world a nicer place to live in. If I benefit my world, I benefit as well as everyone else, because it is my world." More of her works can be found at www.caileandarkwater.net
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