La Morte Per Acqua

• Chloe Willett, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2014

I could feel the ice-cold hands of death, curling one finger at a time around my heart. I could feel myself slowly slipping into unconsciousness. I could feel myself being pulled by an invisible string to the depths of the ocean. It would be so very easy to just let go. Let go of all my sins. Of all my memories. Of all my life. My life means nothing to me now. I allowed myself into the hands of death. Sinking deeper into the unknown. Strong hands gripped me, pulling me to the surface. They were dependent, reassuring and reliable. I broke the surface, gasping for air. Filling my lungs with the life-source. I unstitched my eyes to blinding light. The light was soon eclipsed and I started to make out the features. Brown tousled hair, sapphire blue eyes and broad shoulders. Sitting up I found an ache over half my body. "Are you alright?" His voice startled me, it was smooth and reassuring. I weakly nodded, trying not to upset the pain. He nodded and left a small pouch at my side. As he strode to his mare I asked him warily, "where are you going?" "Wherever the sun rises." I became aware that it was sunset and found myself upset, realizing the meaning behind the words. I gazed down at my side to the small leather pouch. As I opened it, the setting sun's rays reflected off a silver locket. When I looked up to thank him he was galloping off into the dusk of the horizon. I wondered whether I'd ever see my brave saviour again.