Sixty-two

I cry my heart out because I don't know what else to do. Even though I've been in shitty situations before, the sting of failure is still just as sharp as the first time around.

Anger follows quickly on its heels, the timing couldn't be more right. Anger is good. I can work with anger. Dejection, desolation, sadness and overall feeling depressed is a torment in of itself.

Torture. The only difference is that I'm the torturer and torturee.

Taking a sharp and deep breath in, I push myself up and gather the courage to look over the ledge in daylight.

" God damn it, Shay," I scream into the rocky, very much deserted vastness that spans before me. The sight below me is more horrifying than I could have possibly imagined. The ground below is covered with sharp spikes-like rocks pointed skywards. The risk of getting impaled in one is just as certain as the next sunrise.

Frustration coils in my stomach and I can't help the blood-curdling scream that leaves my chest.

Down was the easiest way out. I look upwards and I find a very steep incline of smooth rock, nothing protrudes out of its silky surface that I could use to propel myself up.

I'm stuck. I'm doomed. I'm as good as dead.

Calling for Shay in the hopes that he would deliver me to a safer location is a gamble I'm not willing to take. Not again anyway.

With a deep centring breath, I close my eyes and try to rationalize and find a solution.

I'm beaten, but not defeated. Not yet anyway.

Once the turmoil raging within me recedes just a smidge, I open my eyes and begin to search and scrutinise in detail every inch of the cliff in the hopes that my salvation lies within that cursed valley. I just need to look for it close enough.

I take the ridge of the mountain, and I realise that it looks more like a wall that spans from one edge of the valley to another, beyond my line of sight. I don't have the energy to summon the memory of where I am, but it's there, just beyond my reach.

The upper half of the mountain reveals nothing of use for me so I turn my attention downwards, knowing that, that plan is even more hopeless.

The turbulent water of the waterfall, and the sound of water rapidly hitting the ground are defeaning. My eyes snag at the pool forming right where the water meets the ground and I see that there is a small area free of rocks. From the angle of the ledge, it would be impossible to hit that spot since the trajectory would have to be oblique.

No, I would have to travel down the waterfall along with thousands of gallons of water pushing me down.

Doable. If I could swim. The alternative would be to learn how to breathe underwater and, well, that ain't happening.

Pushing myself off the ground, I face my greatest fear and enemy. Fluid, and placid, but the still waters are the most dangerous. You never see the danger that lurks beneath the surface. It lures you in a false sense of security, before bringing you to your knees.

With one leap I throw myself into the waterfall, the speed and weight of the water dragging me with it, twisting me around, cutting my air supply to a minimum. I catch small breaths whenever I can, despite the speed, the fall seems endless.

Eventually, I hit a body of water, the currents pulling me left and right, but mostly downwards towards its shadowy depths. And I briefly wonder how many people have gambled their lives away the same way I did.

With waning strength, I kick the water trying to break the tumultuous surface above me, while my body desperately craves air.

I'm spent, in every possible way.

Despite my best efforts the currents keep pulling downwards to my demise, and slowly but surely, I lose the fight.

I let myself drift, the last remaining air in my lungs no longer sufficient to keep me going, and slowly I begin to slip into the darkness.

Somehow I find comfort in the thought of eternal rest. Or it could be my oxygen-deprived brain that thinks that way.

It's hard to make any sense when you're with one foot in the grave. But for once I feel at peace, no more wars to wage, no more battles to win, no more surviving.

Just peace, stillness and endless darkness.

***********************************************

The sound of water gently lapping at my face pulls back from what it felt like death. I don't know much about the afterlife, but as sure as hell it shouldn't be this cold.

Shivering uncontrollably, I roll to my side and pry my eyes open. It takes a minute or so for the fog to clear up, but when it does I notice that I'm sitting on a rock surrounded by the familiar spikes jutting out of the ground and the sun is close to setting.

Somehow I've survived. I guess death didn't want me either. What a lovely surprise.

With trembling hands, I prop myself on all fours and begin to crawl because walking at this stage is out of discussion.

If I'm lucky, I'll be able to drag myself on the shore, where there is a small shrub, without fainting a few times on the way.

The shrub though, gives me all sorts of ideas. I'm beyond ravenous. I can't remember the last time I ate, and I need food.

At this point, I don't have the luxury to be picky so that shrub looks mighty delicious.

A sharp edge snag on the exposed skin of my shoulder and I feel that cut to the very depths of my soul. The pang of pain is brutal, but I don't even have the energy to wince or moan about it. I let the pain sink in and use it to spur me forward, to my ultimate goal and source of food.

The ground beneath my hands and feet is uneven with sharp edges, the abrasion against my skin feels ten times worse than it should.