DEOLYKOS

Chapter 1.

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SUICIDAL THEMES, IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT I SUGGEST YOU SKIP TO CHAPTER TWO.

The cold damp sand stuck persistently against her skin and her feet, acting as a less than comfortable cushion for her head. She closed her eyes and let the wind whip her hair against her face. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she let out a long deep sigh. Her heart finally slowed to a reasonable pace, and she opened her eyes. She could barely see the sky she was faced with, though, she thought, she didn't need to see it to imagine it was as breath-taking as usual. She wondered if the ocean would greet her with the same warmth as the sky did.

She allowed herself to breathe deeply, enough so that the salty air tickled her nose. The sand felt prickly against her back and stuck to her legs. Her feet dangled carelessly over the edge, the wind rustling between her toes. Her fingers dung into the sand around her, forcing it deep into her fingernails. She made herself feel it all. She had to feel it all. Gentle tears rolled down her cheeks from her stinging eyes she'd refused to close. She had to see it all.

She'd sat at that very ledge hundreds of times, her body resting against the sand, her heart pounding. It was always like a dream, a story she could see right in front of her but could always barely grasp, as though she was completely removed from it all. That scared her the most. If she couldn't feel the world around her, she couldn't see it all and embrace everything, how would she remember its beauty? How would she cling to its glory after it all when she couldn't even grasp it right then.

She forced herself up, her shaky breaths even shakier still, when her eyes landed on the beach beneath her. Tall, jagged rocks, gentle waves rocking the beach sand. It seemed so deep, but she knew how shallow it was. She could bet she wouldn't even feel it, it would all end before she reached the shore. It would be peaceful, she told herself, the wind whipping by her ears, her hair fluttering all around her, her fingers and toes going numb – it would all be peaceful. It would make everything worth it.

Her eyes began to get more and more blurry. She still hadn't blinked, not once. One would think she would be scared to look directly at the thing that would ultimately take her life, but she couldn't take her eyes off it, not for a second. Her fingers, no, her whole body shook and shivered as she inched herself closer. It will all be over soon. It will be peaceful. It will all be over soon. It will be peaceful. IT WILL ALL BE OVER SOON. IT WILL BE PEACEFUL.

A sharp, pained cry forced itself out of her lungs as she jerked back, away from the ledge, as far as she could get herself. Finally closing her eyes and letting the cascades of tears drench the collar of her shirt and the strand of hair that clung to her face. She pulled her thighs to her chest and dropped her forehead to her knees. She couldn't do it. God, she couldn't do anything right.

She sat there longer, feeling her heart pound forcefully against her chest, feeling her mind go blank and her throat close up, feeling the wave of shame and embarrassment flood over her once again. It was all too familiar. Maybe her father was right. She was valueless. Incapable. And worst of all, a coward.