{drowning} in your {waters} // ripleys+libertines

When the ocean stills in me, I am no longer in the public eye. I am being guided down a long corridor towards a room all of my own. My very own funeral parlor, how nice. The hand on my shoulder is gentle, despite the white uniform and black boots and sturdy helmet that accompanies it. The girl beside me gets lead into a room to the left and we keep going to the end of the hall, to a different door, a different life. Perhaps Pen is waiting for me just beyond the woodwork, waiting to hold me close and wrap around my very being. She has always belonged there. Always.

My heart flutters a little in my chest, my hands resting heavily upon the faded wood for just a moment before the door tips open. A bare room lays beyond, but no Penelope. She does not wait upon the couch to embrace my soul. She does not linger in the corner to watch me. No, she does not wait because she no longer can. She is dead. The Peacekeeper looks at me in confusion before my face falls, brow setting in a heavy line and jaw clenching tightly. I push his hand off of me and stalk into the room, slamming the door shut with a bang. The silence echoes deafeningly through the air, slapping against my cheek and sending me tumbling backwards into the room. I fall onto the couch, clinging to the fabric and trying to slow my breathing, but the ocean is suddenly swelling inside of me again. I can feel the waves crashing, sending my head spinning and I feel sick again.

I stand unsteadily, wobbling across the room to the door and tug at it, grumbling in frustration when it doesn't budge. The ocean swims up through the cavity of my chest until it is spilling from my eyes, the salty water dripping down my cheeks slowly. My back is pressed against the wall next to the door, my legs caving to let me fall into the sea, but I only collide with the ground. The ocean is never there when I want it to be. At least, the right ocean never is. Instead, I've fallen into the ocean of my panic and fear for I will die upon the grounds of an Arena far from home. I will die away from my brothers, far from the sandy shores I've grown used to. I will be one step closer to joining Penelope under the waves though and that is all that matters.

The baseboard is decorated with old shells found upon the beach, the pale colors mixing together to offset the white of the walls only a little. Their points stab at my back and make my skin itch, but my hands find purchase against their rugged textures and smooth curves. My breathing evens out and I feel my eyes slip shut, tears still quietly flowing down my cheeks. I want to curl into myself and be swallowed by the ocean within me, but it is not my time. I am not yet meant to join her where she will not be followed, not until she allows it. I would have gone many months ago if I had been able. Instead, I sit here, tugging at a shell until it comes loose and is cradled in the palm of my hands as I wait for my fate to spin out of control. Footsteps sound down the hall and then they are before the door and yes, this is the end. This is the end indeed.