Sirène

As she sat in her room and looked out the window, she saw the sparkling blue line that was around five hundred metres away. The line was not still and straight; it had ripples breaking its surface and the occasional creature seemed to leap out from beneath its top layer. Each ripple seemed to change the colour of the water, making it look like a shimmering surface of finely woven silk thread.

Her eyes snapped back to her room. Seeing the bare walls and the hard steel bed gave her a sense of oppression. The room and its possessions looked so different when compared to the scene that had presented itself to her eyes right outside her window. She was unhappy here, and she was tired of giving in to that unhappiness. She now wanted to fight it and break free from her sorrow. The room gave her the sense that the world was closing in on her. She wanted to emerge from this world and smell the fresh breath of freedom. To her, the only thought she had connected to the word ‘freedom’ was the river outside her window, so close yet so far from her grasp.

And so she started planning her escape into the world outside. The more she planned, the more the escape became real to her. She stopped eating, she stopped thinking…she stopped living. The only thing on her mind was the river. It became a frantic and frenzied obsession, and she knew she had to escape as soon as she could or else risk driving herself to a level of insanity from which she would never be able to escape.

The people who took care of the girl started to worry about her health and state of mind. They didn’t know what thoughts moved through her head so rapidly and put her into such a state of frenzy. They tried to talk to her but she would just stare blankly out of the window, the words bouncing off her like water off a duck’s back.

Already being a patient with a high risk of self-destruction and manic depression, the girl was now watched more closely than ever before. People were sent to talk to her ever so often, as well as to check on her and bring her out of her frenzied state. Someone was soon even sent to sleep next to her during the night. It soon became almost a given fact that someone was always there in her room.

This ever-present company made the girl’s escape harder to put into action. The constant flow of people in her room, however, did nothing to make her forget about her plan. In fact, the harder it became to escape, the more the plan drew her in and called out to her.

And one night her escape finally became a reality. There was nobody in her room, though she knew that someone would come in around ten minutes. Luckily for her, the window grilles had gone to be painted that day. Wondering at the stupidity and lack of care of her institution, a reckless feeling crept over her. She went to the window, threw it open and climbed out. Since she was on the ground floor, she didn’t have to worry about finding her way down. And now she found herself outside, her feet actually resting on velvety grass and a looming dark sky hanging over her head. She was finally free.

Her nose took in all the new smells around her. Those of fresh grass, damp mud and some sweet smelling flower intoxicated her, giving her a feeling of euphoria that she had never experienced before. The rustling of leaves around her, the occasional sound of crickets and other insects as well as the gentle lapping of the water filled her with excitement. She threw her hands into the air and started to laugh- a happy laugh yet one punctuated with recklessness and a slight tone of insanity. She then started to run.

She ran in the direction of the river, following the noise of the water. Even if the sound hadn’t been there to guide her, she would have known where to go. The river seemed to have an unexplainable attraction for her. It had always drawn her attention from her window, and now it seemed to draw her feet towards it as well, like some great blue magnet built specially for her.

She reached the water. The blue line she had seen all those years from her window was not a simple line anymore. It was big and wide, its dark waters swirling before her. She had only one moment of hesitation before she dove into its icy waters.

She was overcome with a sense of joy and happiness. The cool water caressed her face, and her toes tingled with cold and excitement when they felt the water between them. She felt free at last- free of all her fears and boundaries and free of the oppression of the world in her room. That world closed in on her no longer.

Fish and plants were around her on all sides. The most amusing among them were the whales. The nuzzled her feet and hands; she sat atop one and held onto its sides. The waters parted around them as the whale swam the length of the river, singing its song to her. Her ears interpreted it as a song of escape and freedom.

The depths of the river were her home. Maybe she was one of those mermaids she had read about. Yes, she quite liked that idea. She was a beautiful mermaid with golden hair and shimmering fins. She was a mermaid who had finally broken free from the constraints of human society. She was a mermaid who was finally happy at heart and at peace with herself. She was a mermaid who had found her freedom and found her home.

Shadows of Death

I speak from the realms of death, where nothing moves and nobody speaks. I speak from this place of eternal bliss and peaceful serenity.

Death is not what people associate with it. It is not a place full of horror and terror. It is not the black of a deep pit or the red of blood spurting out from a wound. I would associate it with the peaceful, deep blue-green pf the ocean or the white of fluffy clouds painted on a light blue sky.

Death is more like a peaceful slumber where all memories come back as dreams. Death is what life is. It is like living all over again, even though it maybe in a dreamlike state.

The dreams do not seem like dreams though. They feel like life, with the same bright colours and laughter.

Now, am I confusing you? I think I am. But maybe that was my intention. Or maybe it wasn't. You will never know. You can't speak to me. Only I can speak to you.

So I guess you're wondering why I am saying all these seemingly profound things. I can only guess because, of course, you cannot tell me what you're wondering. I hope I'm right. Well, even if I'm not, I'm going to tell you. I need you to know how I came to be in such a place, in the place of death. But to get you to understand, I have to explain what the realms of death even means. That may have sounded profound. It was completely unintentional.

The story of my death is actually not one that may interest you. But I feel like telling you, and so I will.

When i was alive, I lived in a big house. I had many cars and I was rich. I had a beautiful wife and three beautiful children. I loved them all dearly. Yet I was troubled.

I could never sleep. You could call me an insomniac if you wish, but I don't think of myself as one. The truth is that I could sleep but fitfully. Now you must be wondering why. It was because of Death.

Death's images filled my mind night and day. Death scared me, and I used to lie awake at night thinking about how one day it would come and take me.

My eternal fear of Death troubled my wife. She made me see many doctors, but none helped. It made it worse as some of these doctors tried to cure me of this sickness by showing me numerous images of death, in the hope that I would eventually get over the fear.

Finally, Death himself came to see me. Now, let me tell you, he was not dressed in black, and he did not look scary in any way. He wore white pants and a blue shirt, as well as a smile. The smile was so warm and friendly that I liked him instantly.

This is what Death said to me in that very first meeting, "You are tired, my child. You have not slept in many years. Come with me, let me take you to my land. You will be peaceful there, I promise." Without even thinking twice about it, I agreed to what he said. I knew it meant leaving my wife and my children, but somehow my heart told me that it was the right thing to do. And so I went with Death.

That is how I came to be here. Perhaps you could relate this story to my wife? I would be grateful. I want her to know that I am fine and finally at peace.

Now I forever live here. Death is a good friend if mine. He knows I wait for the day my wife and children join me. He tells me to be patient. I tell him that I am.

These realms are beautiful. They are so peaceful that you would die to be here. Well, of course you would have to die!

Death is final but worth it. Death did keep his promise to me. That was the promise that made me come here. I can finally sleep. Life was fretful, but in Death I sleep. Coming here was a good decision, the right decision. My sleep was never disturbed again.