The Protector

XXXIV

I'm pretty sure I'm falling, it sure does feel like it. Tumbling deeper and deeper with every breath I should be taking. I'm heading into nothing, into a bleakness with no specific name. All that surrounds me is an extensive inky wall that never gets any closer. There's not a single sliver of light, no matter where you look. Everything is the same, just blank and dark.

The air's sorrowful. It creates a pit in the stomach, a constant reminder of why you're in this unknown land - death. I'm here because I'm dead. That may be the case, but why does it have to be so depressing? I doubt someone who lived a happy life and went out peacefully wants to be greeted afterwards to such a miserable pen as though an animal.

There's no warmth, but no chill. The air is still, I can't even move it with an exhale, I have no need for breathing. I can't tell if I'm still falling. It feels like there's nothing beneath my feet, but then I don't think I'm plummeting any further as the nothing feels sturdy beneath me.

There isn't any colour anywhere, just pitch dusk, not a speck of light anywhere - not a crack for silver to seep in through. It's full of pain, sorrow and emptiness down here - I just want to feel something good, but I don't think it will ever come. It doesn't feel like I'm welcome here, as though the shadows are shunning my existence. It isn't like I want to be here, I'm here because I took a risk to save the love of my life and the people I care about.

This is a place of infinite misery. It's the loneliness that was following me around for years, and I remember it lurking above me like a pissed off Guardian. And now that I'm alone with it, it doesn't even want me.

Sinking into the depths, I crouch to cross my legs for a break. I have no energy, why would I have a need for it when I'm no longer living? My head's throbbing from the pressure, though it doesn't hurt. I can't feel my own body, all nerve endings have turned to dust. It's as though I've detached - I'm literally an empty shell.

Digging deep for some motivation to not remain in pity on the floor of the empty, I shakily climb to my feet. They're still bare, not surprising since I'm still in the pelt which meant no shoes. Every step feels like I'm being burnt, there's no discomfort to go with it but the sensation is the same. It does allow for my senses to kick in, the tiniest bit of feeling like myself returning. I don't want to curl into a ball and be consumed by the darkness, I want to find a way out.

With every movement, I can feel my life draining - the only power I have remaining. Every attempted breath is distressed; erratic and forced. Everything here is anguish, pure agonising torture but it is all in my head not my body.

"Is this my reward for murder? Is this my reward for killing a serial killer? Is this what I get for protecting hundreds?" I scream into the gloom. "I don't regret a thing!" This place won't get the better of me, I'm not going to stop being myself because I'm no longer living.

Finding the courage that's being suppressed, I hold it tight and follow the pulling of what should be my heart. It's the only hope in this forsaken place, and I'm not going to let it be put out. I only just got the fulfilling feeling of love and happiness back, I only just found a purpose - I'm not going to let Zayn be the reason I've lost it again. Even in death he's trying to beat me.

A strange brightness forms not far from me. It's like a thousand crystals glistening in the sunlight - beauty that doesn't belong here. Drawn to the aura it creates, I stumble over, unable to stay away. The closer I get, the more vivid it shines. It's as though I'm looking into the sun at midday, minus the sting to my retinas.

My fingers graze over the bolt. Electricity jolts my brain, unlocking the part of me that's persistent and passionate. Sure I could still access some of it, but now I'm determined and strong. It begins to dance around me, shrouding me in its dazzling colours and love.