The breeze upon my skin feels like it should be a soothing feeling of relaxation. The twinkling stars should create a lullaby of a tune that would lull me to sleep. The deep indigo of the night is one of my favourite colours, but in this situation, the shade does not bring me the joy it would any other day.
The only sounds that echo on this empty cliff are the smacks and folds of waves on waves in the ocean below, my calm, but harsh and disobedient breath, and the relaxed, yet hard beating of my heart. My immobilised arms are strained against the unsanded and quite unsteady chair, which I am forced to sit on. Splinters break through my bruised flesh, adding more pain to seep through to my head. The wood is uncomfortable on my back and behind as I slouch uncontrollably. Along with my arms being tied, my ankles are too and slouching with tied limbs is not a pleasing combination.
I can feel my mouth becoming agape and saliva slowly flowing and spilling down my chin. The feeling is revolting to me and almost barbaric. No one I know would ever let an action such as this pass without any consequence. I would very much like to close my mouth and lick the spit away, gulping down my disgust, but I cannot.
I have no control over my body. It's like I'm detached from it but can still feel every sensation. I am still breathing, but am powerless. My eyes will not move but the eyelids will close every ten seconds exactly. Every ten seconds.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Blink. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Blink. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Blink
I can't speak, and yet, my throat swallows on its own every minute and a half. Which is obviously not enough.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five. Twenty-Six. Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Eight. Twenty-Nine. Thirty. Thirty-One. Thirty-Two. Thirty-Three. Thirty-Four. Thirty-Five. Thirty-Six. Thirty-Seven. Thirty-Eight. Thirty-Nine. Forty. Forty-One. Forty-Two. Forty-Three. Forty-Four. Forty-Five. Forty-Six. Forty-Seven. Forty-Eight. Forty-Nine. Fifty. Fifty-One. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four. Fifty-Five. Fifty-Six. Fifty-Seven. Fifty-Eight. Fifty-Nine. Sixty. Sixty-One. Sixty-Two. Sixty-Three. Sixty-Four. Sixty-Five. Sixty-Six. Sixty-Seven. Sixty-Eight. Sixty-Nine. Seventy. Seventy-One. Seventy-Two. Seventy-Three. Seventy-Four. Seventy-Five. Seventy-Six. Seventy-Seven. Seventy-Eight. Seventy-Nine. Eighty. Eighty-One. Eighty-Two. Eighty-Three. Eighty-Four. Eighty-Five. Eighty-Six. Eighty-Seven. Eighty-Eight. Eighty-Nine. Ninety. Swallow. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five. Twenty-Six. Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Eight. Twenty-Nine. Thirty. Thirty-One. Thirty-Two. Thirty-Three. Thirty-Four. Thirty-Five. Thirty-Six. Thirty-Seven. Thirty-Eight. Thirty-Nine. Forty. Forty-One. Forty-Two. Forty-Three. Forty-Four. Forty-Five. Forty-Six. Forty-Seven. Forty-Eight. Forty-Nine. Fifty. Fifty-One. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four. Fifty-Five. Fifty-Six. Fifty-Seven. Fifty-Eight. Fifty-Nine. Sixty. Sixty-One. Sixty-Two. Sixty-Three. Sixty-Four. Sixty-Five. Sixty-Six. Sixty-Seven. Sixty-Eight. Sixty-Nine. Seventy. Seventy-One. Seventy-Two. Seventy-Three. Seventy-Four. Seventy-Five. Seventy-Six. Seventy-Seven. Seventy-Eight. Seventy-Nine. Eighty. Eighty-One. Eighty-Two. Eighty-Three. Eighty-Four. Eighty-Five. Eighty-Six. Eighty-Seven. Eighty-Eight. Eighty-Nine. Ninety. Swallow. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five. Twenty-Six. Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Eight. Twenty-Nine. Thirty. Thirty-One. Thirty-Two. Thirty-Three. Thirty-Four. Thirty-Five. Thirty-Six. Thirty-Seven. Thirty-Eight. Thirty-Nine. Forty. Forty-One. Forty-Two. Forty-Three. Forty-Four. Forty-Five. Forty-Six. Forty-Seven. Forty-Eight. Forty-Nine. Fifty. Fifty-One. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four. Fifty-Five. Fifty-Six. Fifty-Seven. Fifty-Eight. Fifty-Nine. Sixty. Sixty-One. Sixty-Two. Sixty-Three. Sixty-Four. Sixty-Five. Sixty-Six. Sixty-Seven. Sixty-Eight. Sixty-Nine. Seventy. Seventy-One. Seventy-Two. Seventy-Three. Seventy-Four. Seventy-Five. Seventy-Six. Seventy-Seven. Seventy-Eight. Seventy-Nine. Eighty. Eighty-One. Eighty-Two. Eighty-Three. Eighty-Four. Eighty-Five. Eighty-Six. Eighty-Seven. Eighty-Eight. Eighty-Nine. Ninety. Swallow.
I haven't been counting how long I've been staring at the evil sky. It pulses each time my eyes are about to shut. It mocks me with each glimmer of a star, laughs at me with each harder breeze of wind, and it ridicules me with each clap of a wave.
It's more tranquil than it should be with a person tied to a chair. I wish for the hairs on my arms to rise while also pulling up the goosebumps, but no response occurs as I hear steady footsteps approach my corps. A hot and venomous breath runs along my vulnerable shoulder. Again: no goosebumps. I expect a rise in my pulse, my breath to hitch, and perhaps my fingers to twitch when I feel a grotesque quaternary of fingers dance across my naked skin. I want it off.
I. Want. It. Off.
But no movement. No reaction. I'm panicking. Fireworks are bursting in my brain and creating fires. But my hands stay still and cool. Electricity circuits race through my nerves. Yet, no veins demonstrate any strain. My life flashes before my eyes. However, my eyelids still wait ten more seconds to blink.
One.
"I hope you know that I'm not sorry-"
Two.
".. for what I'm about to do."
Three.
"He put me here for a reason."
Four.
The voice has a distinguishable roughness to it. Scratches that-
Five.
... are there as if it would be the victim of someone who smoke a lot.
Six.
But it is strong. And menacing. And unsettling.
Seven.
The chair begins to budge.
Eight.
"Maybe that excuse might guarantee-"
Nine.
".. that you'll forgive me." Closer to the cliff.
Ten.
Blink.
As I'm falling.
