𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

Chapter 96

TW: suicidal thoughts.
Part 2 of the double update!

— Chapter 96 —
The Beginning and the End

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N O A H
Several years ago...

I think I'm going to die tonight.

In a strange, inexplicable way, that thought lulled me into a false sense of calm as I wondered down the tightly fitted planks of a sea-soaked pier. I was bundled comfortably into my oversized jacket. The crisp, cool air singed my frigid cheeks and tasted faintly of seawater. My puffy exhales turned quickly to steam.

Kicking discarded solo cups out of my path, I trudged forward, squinting my gaze in the direction of the raging, black ocean.

Tonight had been the Stray Dogs' tenth annual beach event. Or was it the eleventh? Crowds of bikers, partygoers and motorcycle enthusiasts had congregated from every corner of the state to get involved—at least before alerts of an oncoming hurricane had cut the festivities short.

Once the first growl of lightning had echoed in from the horizon, people began packing up their shit and clearing the hell out. Now, the bustling shoreline was swarming with people busy fleeing in the opposite direction of the water.

In the dead of night, I was the only one left heading towards the storm.

Just shy of eighteen years old and hopped up on drugs I couldn't name, my limbs ached as an icy chill struck deep into the marrow of my bones.

I pushed onward.

My grip wrapped firmly around the silver ring strapped to a chain around my neck. It's okay, the breeze seemed to hum, distracting me from a quiet roll of thunder in the distance. It's time for you to go.

Following its spell, I finally reached the end of the pier. A salty gust of wind rushed into my hair as an impatient wave crushed itself against the wooden beams. My weathered fingers traced the mildew of the splintered railing. In a short moment, I hauled myself upward, fighting against the tremor in my shot nerves and unsteady arms.

It took a second for me to find myself some stable footing, but sure enough, I managed to get myself standing upright.

Balancing on the flat top of the creaky, wooden rail, I soon tucked my hands into my pockets and turned towards the water.

It's okay, the voice hummed again. Just fall, and let the water take you.

I gripped the ring again.

There it was—my silvery reflection, flickering like a ghost in the aggravated waves. I watched it closely. I watched the way its eyes narrowed, and its lips pursed. I watched and watched until the face began to waver, morph, and change shape. Soon, it wasn't my reflection in the water anymore. It was my father's.

I'm sorry, I thought, pleading for forgiveness. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

My right foot moved up off the beam.

A whoosh of air enveloped my figure, caressed me, and I sucked in a deep breath in preparation for the fall. This is it, I thought. Knowing that I couldn't swim, I was going to breathe my last breath and fall alone into the crushing depths, so that the ice-cold water could destroy my body and carry my beaten soul all the way to Hell.

But then I saw a glimmer of red.

Out there, in the ink-black water, I could have sworn I'd seen the impossible flicker of a burning flame.