Waves

WARNING: Self harm, death, suicide, angst

This one's pretty short, but here- have some angst.

I've always loved watching the waves, from the cliff near my house.

They helped me calm down.

I've been coming here for years.

And then there were the rumours of the gods, the ones that guarded the oceans and protected the creatures inside them. My father joked that they liked me, since they had known me since I was young.

I was 7, my father took me to the cliff and held my hand tightly as I leaned forward to look over the edge.

I was 10, sitting here on my stool with my paints and my easel, painting the waves as they crashed below me.

I was 12, crying my eyes out as my bully's words echoed in my ears.

I was 14, reading my favourite book for the millionth time, sitting here with my legs dangling over the edge.

I was 15, tears blurring my vision as I dragged the razor across my skin once, twice, three, four, five times before throwing it into the ocean and collapsing in tears.

I was 17, staring out into the distance, smelling the sea air and trying to forget school that day.

I was 20, now living in the house my parents had, choking on sobs as I remember the day they died, that horrible car crash that I only just managed to escape from before it burst into flames.

I was 21, sitting here silently, the night of my birthday, watching the sea under the watchful eye of the moon, breathing in and out with the waves.

I am 24, staring at the waves, before I fall.

I brace myself for death to come, sweet oblivion.

Instead I feel myself held in the arms of many people.

"Oh, no," I hear so many voices speak as one. "We cannot destroy something who has loved us for so long."

The gods from the myths. My eyes well up as I look to them and think about why I am here.

"You don't understand," I cry to the waves. "I didn't fall- I jumped."

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This was weird

And very short