I apologize in advantage for the grammatical mistakes.
Comments and criticisms are welcome.
My head. It looks little, but weighs so much. I suppose it is normal. Is full of memories. The whole body of mine is. They weigh like lead in the bones, and lies heavy like boulders on my heart. Amongst so many memories, now it has become difficult to discern mine, the original, authentic ones from the ones of the others, the ones of the Washed.
Nevertheless, the eldest authentic memory, is engraved on my mind. I suppose it is normal. Happenings like the death, fix firmly in the soul, soaking it.
I was about 10. I remember a family, I couldn’t say if happy or not, I remember a house between the mountains, I couldn’t say where, but it was in the north.
And there was the snow. A lot of snow, everywhere. I love the snow: is so pure, immaculate, shiny and perfect to all appearances, harmless. And however is a dead thing, sterile, which covers the world suffocating it with an icy mantle.
I remember very well the sea. And the ice over it, which hides it at the view. Somebody had told me that it wasn’t a bad thing, that the ice was protecting the sea. I couldn’t say why I found myself there that day. Maybe I wanted to watch the sea. Actually watching it, beyond the ice, staring it in his eyes made of marine foam and coral.
Walking on the ice, if you don’t have the right shoes to do it, is tiring.
And dangerous.
It happened that way.
Just a moment before I was observing the ice from the top, which dry and blinding reflected the sunshine in my eyes. A moment after, I found myself observing the ice by an unusual prospective, from the bottom, with the surface of the water kindly adhering on it and the light filtering through, making everything look surrealistic.
My first, childish thought was that this is the way the fishes see the world. I knew very well that I was not a fish, and the panic grasped my heart since, due to this, I did not owned all their abilities, like swimming or breathing the water.
Water.
The essential element for life. As absurd, its touch burned my skin, and stole my warmth. I tried to fling myself about, but my heavy clothes, which should have been good, which should have protected me, pulled me down toward a bottom that I was unable to see. The instinct was not of any use, which, irrational, pulled me to open wide the mouth and to breathe that water deeply.
Once I was told that drowning is a sweet abandonment, that it’s like the return to the harbour for the sailor.
It was not true.
Drowning it’s an agony.
I felt like crying, but immediately after I thought it was useless, because a tear, lost in the sea, it’s impossible to be distinguished by others.
The oxygen started run low in my brain.
So I wondered if therefore the sea is actually formed by all the tears of the creatures which suffer, which are frightened.
It was then that I saw him.
My mouth, now without words, called him Angel. An human figure, shiny, with a head of hair more black than the night itself and ethereal wings, was moving forward in the water, apparently without moving a muscle, like the space didn’t exist to him. His arms clasped my body, and I felt safe, believing that he will have brought me back to the surface soon…
Where I could have breathe again the air…
Why had I always think about the air as a taken for granted thing?
Now it looked unreachable.
When writing for a living, your pieces must be to a point where there are as few errors as possible so it is readable, but content always takes precedent over mechanics. That is why writers have editors, and project managers. Besides here in the forest you are free to write any way you choose. It is that freedom that equips you to go back out into the world and write what you need to write whether for school, work, or those you love. Never let mistakes stop you, they sometimes lead to a new path.
Kumiko : Thank you, I mostly write in one go, so this is actually how it is supposed to sound (:
Sypris : Thanks, I'm really glad you liked it.
Shiori : Thanks ^_^ Water is EVILLLLLL xD -Snuggles back-
Everyone: Since it looks like you enjoyed this, I will write some more short stories about Balthamos' past. So maybe I can introduce another character. Hope it will match your taste <3
When writing for a living,
Poor, Balthamos. A victim of
I liked it. It's short, simple, yet emotional and powerful.
I felt like crying, but
What a lovely line.
I thoroughly enjoyed the story. ♥
Very lovely
Theano : Thanks for your
Kumiko : Thank you, I mostly write in one go, so this is actually how it is supposed to sound (:
Sypris : Thanks, I'm really glad you liked it.
Shiori : Thanks ^_^ Water is EVILLLLLL xD -Snuggles back-
Everyone: Since it looks like you enjoyed this, I will write some more short stories about Balthamos' past. So maybe I can introduce another character. Hope it will match your taste <3
I have a quick question...