Dark Souls

4.hazel eyes

I decide to put the incident that happened near the airport in the farthest corner of my mind. I wasn't about to let it ruin my first night here. Instead I drive towards my favorite town, focusing on the warm, summer breeze caressing my body as it slips by, and the humming of the tires contacting the pavement. I won't deny I'm obsessed with the feeling of adrenaline rushing through my system every time I rode my motorcycle. Being on a saddle in the open air instead of inside a car made everything around me look and feel 3D. You could easily hear the city bustling with life around you and smell the delicious scents coming from the restaurants you rode by. It was definitely a sensory overload that was worth experiencing.

Sicily has always been one of my favorite places to visit. It's full of natural beauty, art and culture. It is also a perfect place for inspiration; from the mountains, countryside, sea, volcanoes and fishing villages, Sicily was definitely a piece of heaven on Earth.

From what I've heard, my father was born here. He left my mother and I when I was 7 years old, but I don't really remember anything about him. It's as if he'd taken all of our memories together with him the day he decided to leave. My mother, Victoria, doesn't like talking about him so I don't know much, but everyone says he's a terrible man and that hopefully he's burning in the depths of hell by now. I'm okay though, you can't really miss what you've never had.

After about an hour later I arrive at the picturesque, historic town that's sitting on a headland. The streets are packed with crowds that are out clubbing, in bars or out for dinner and I can't help grinning to myself as I enjoy the Sicilian, night vibe myself from my bike. I slow down as I'm passing by the imposing, two-towered, Norman cathedral, it's so fascinating that every time I see it, it leaves me breathless like the very first time my mother took me to visit it. I drive a few miles, spotting the sandy beach that stretches alongside the town. I park my motorcycle in one of the alleys that leads down to it, and the second I take my helmet off, I inhale the mesmerizing scent of the salty water that's awaiting for me just a couple of feet away.

I chew on my lower lip with excitement, already feeling the warm water hugging my body as I run towards the dark and desolated beach. When my boots reach the clashing waves at shore, I strip them off along with my clothing, staying only in my black, sheer matching underwear.

I glance over both shoulders. There were tons of bars and restaurants still open around, but the beach was completely isolated. There were also no lampposts, but even through the darkness of the night I could see how cristaline the water was due to the bright moon and stars shining above in this clear, summer night.

I bend down, grabbing my needle point, pocket knife from my neatly folded, jean's back pocket. Better safe than sorry.

"Here we go," I whisper to myself, my whole body diving into the water without hesitation, letting its darkness swallow me whole.

I once was afraid of any body of water, really. I even had panic attacks if I saw them from afar, like from an airplane or driving through a bridge over a river; but now, years later, I surprisingly found comfort in them. They brought a sense of peace into my dark soul and took away all my frustrations for a bit. There are rarely places you can go for tranquility; places where you can shush your own demons. But here, down deep, there was no noise and that was all I needed sometimes. Silence.