Fluvial

Please note: This short story contains elements of suicide. Also: I am not suicidal in the least. This is not meant to be offensive in any way, I'm just trying to get out my thoughts.

I like the water.

When you're under the waves, everything above is dull.

This is the way I'd stay forever.

''Do dead people get to chose where they stay? ''

My body floats freely and undisturbed by harmful hands of sharp blades.

Thoughts slip to the surface like the tiny bubbles.

My hair fans out around my head like a black halo.

The halo of a demon.

That's what I am.

I paddle to the surface and grab the coil of rope I stored on the dock.

I glance up and bid the stars one final goodbye.

I'll be joining them soon.

Paddling back down to the water, I force my numb hands to tie the knots.

One around my ankle, one around the bottom of the dock.

I tied them tighter than I've ever tied before.

''I won't fail. ''

And she didn't. Her body was found the next day by some dockworkers.

Rest In Peace.