Way of Life

Head Above Water

Hello! The chapter title is inspired off of "Head Above Water" by Avril Lavigine. Some of the lyrics, I think, go well with how Marc may be feeling. If you'd like, check it out!!

Also, I'd like to make note that the PTSD and panic attack in this chapter are not fully accurate. I tried to do justice with what I've learned, but it's important to know this is just an interpretation of a very serious thing. 

TW: 

PSTD Episode

Panic Attack

Untrue/harmful thoughts about one's self

♡♡♡

The warmth of the sun has never felt so comforting. Each ray of light sneaking its way through the thick clouds above manage to embrace Izabella's skin like a long-awaited for hug. There and warm and bright, holding her close like a whisper of reassurance.

Everything will be okay. 

Despite the darkness that warps her vision-- the pitch black dotted with reds, and the anxiety and grief that twists her heart, it's calming to be out here. To relax under the sun in the beginning weeks of the summer. To hear the light breeze of the wind rustle the grown, green leaves of the trees and listen to the soothing words nature has to offer her.

It will get better.

A part of her doesn't want it to end. To be out here, it's refreshing. Like an old life left behind to face a better one. No pain or sadness. No tear-stricken eyes, puffed and red. No shouting; yelling at the world for something that was out of anyone's control. 

Here it was peaceful, like time was finally letting her heal from the hole that left its mark in her heart.

The creak that the door gave behind her suddenly wasn't startling, but it was enough to draw her out of the calming trance she had submersed herself in. The whispers of the wind and words of the sun deaf to her ears now; mute in their assurances as if everything had gone still. The peace not gone, as warm and radiant on her skin as the late afternoon sun would allow, but instead waiting to see if she would wander back to it, or to the spiral of life that she had been so caught up in before.

It was aching to return to it, but she knew she couldn't stay in this bliss forever. No matter how long she wanted to hold on, grasp that feeling of warmth that spread across her chest. To hold tight to the tender embrace of peace that would be lost the second she returned to reality. 

It wasn't right to stay away from it all. To seclude herself from what reminders hurt. She had to return to it sooner or later, face the music of the world rather than the whispers of God's wonderful creation. 

"I don't suppose you'll stay out here forever, nieta." The brush of a hand against her shoulder was faint, the slight rasp of her abuela's voice low and quiet, as if respecting the sounds of nature in her own thoughtful consideration. 

Izabella hummed, cracking an eye open to face her abuela, watching as she went to take a seat on the small patch of grass next to her. The creaks of her bones popped the lower she got to the ground, groaning when she was finally able to take a seat. "Oh, I'm not so young anymore...I can't keep doing this much longer."