Agathokakological

Head under Water

It feels like drowning. Going deep down in unknown waters...yet she can see the light, just above the surface; but she cannot feel the warmth. She tries hard, gives it all, yet her finger tips are the ones experiencing the bliss, the warmth which she forgot had value. She can, but seldom reaches the top, her lungs begging her for air. The rays barely caress her face before she is yanked back into the water with an iron chain binding her foot. 

The chain seems to be tied at the deepest point on the ocean floor, with such resolute firmness that leaves her puzzled. The bond is tight, and the shackles long enough for her to raise her hand out of the waters, but not long enough for her to put her head out and breathe. How did she get here? She asks herself this everyday.  Her vision is getting blurrier as the seconds pass by; her vision gets blinder as the time ticks away, for she can only see blue and black. Not the rays that diffuse through the water, not the glimmer of hope that crosses her path some days. The chains seem to get stronger as the days goes by, they get stronger as they hold on to her foot.

She wants to scream, and cry out for help. But who is there to listen? Her tears will but add to the salty water; her screams will but add to the deafening silence; serving as a fuel to the beasts which haunt her. She knows not how the creature looks; she knows not when they strike. But what she knows is that it will sneak up to her from behind, when she least suspects it, and engulf her in the same darkness in which its abode lies. 

She does not how she ended up here, below the mystic water, without light, without warmth, where her only company are Fear, Coldness and Desperation. She does not know how is she still living, or rather surviving; below the water, where her lungs would've been long choked and she long dead. But she is still there, her heart beating erratically, eyes moving aimlessly, hands flailing with nothing to grab onto, her legs in search of a non-existent footing. She feels like she is drifting away from the shore that held her in place, yet she feels as if she is anchored to the sea- floor. 

"They say sadness is like a cloudy day, with chances of rain on your beach. But for me, sunshine feels like a rare occurrence with heavy outbursts and cloudy days that fill my shore, " she thinks when her mind wanders back to the 'good ol' days'. 

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