Beneath the Fountain

29. Goodbye

I'm floating.

In what? I don't know. It's serene, though. All the hurt, all the pain, all the crying is gone. Irrelevant. Nonexistent.

It's dark, the kind of dark that makes you forget that any other color exists except black. It's the kind that makes you want to stay inside at night, tucked in next to a lantern so you don't succumb to it. It's the kind of dark that makes you wonder if the sun will ever rise again.

But for once, just once, a dark like this isn't scary.

No more Margarethe. No more lies. No talk of magic or sorcerers. No more evil. All the bad is gone.

I feel my hair freely floating, some of it brushing against my face, tickling my nose. My skirts are rising in a poof around me. I'm just existing, feeling, breathing. I'd be content to stay like this for the rest of my life, but at the same time, what kind of life would this be?

Alone. Nothing to look forward to. Not being important to anyone. Not feeling wanted. Not feeling loved. Never feeling love for anything.

Not feeling anything.

No more Mystery. Oh no, no more William.

Now that I really think about it, this state of just being, it's not the existence I want. It's not even an existence.

How long have I been like this? What if I'm under a curse just like William was? What is this really is my existence now? What if I never see William again?

No, no, no. What if?

In the suffocating darkness then, I hear very discernible voices. They sound so far away, but I know who they are. I try to shout into the void for them to hear me, but I can't. If I open my mouth, I fear that I'll drown in the darkness just as I would in a river of water.

Instead, all I can do is listen, hardly able to make out parts of their conversation.

"I don't understand," I hear William's muffled voice. "How was she able to do that?"

"I don't know," Helena agrees, "She shouldn't have been able to." After a brief pause, I can only make out a few words of what she says next, "Must be careful... power... wanted... dangerous... You have to protect..."

William's voice is much clearer than hers, "How should we protect her? I mean, she is the one who protected us. Compared to her, I'm powerless."

"Do as I have... can't know the truth."

What are they talking about? The truth? The truth about what? The only thing I know is that they're talking about me, and what troubles me is that they know more about me than I know about myself, and it sounds like they have no plans of telling me either. I want to ask them what they mean, but once again, I'm a prisoner trapped inside my body.

William's voice is worried now, "She hasn't moved. Are you sure she'll wake?"

"Eventually, yes... need rest."

"No, I'm staying right here."

And then it goes silent again, the voices getting farther and farther till I am no longer able to hear them.

And that's when I want to cry because once again I am all alone in the dark. I want to scream for help, but no one would hear me now.