tick. tock. {finis hazel}

The crystal lake water reflects a broken girl with hazel eyes, for which she was named for, shattered beyond repair by the sledgehammer of death. Her losses dance in the tears that pour into the water, sending tremors of ripples gracing across the glass-like surface. Within the depths of forest green and sienna, a story is whispered under the breath of the gathering downpour.

Death, the ceasing of a beloved heartbeat, is a shadow cast upon the world each day, the scythe hovering over each lively soul, its wielder pondering who among the innocent will be reaped by the blade. Its lethal tip skimmed the skin of her father; the first soul stolen from her. In its wake was the finest incision, like a thin red thread across fragile skin. But through one small slice, her father's soul was risen to the arms of Death.

The second heist, her mother. Her bones were demolished beneath the heavy trunk of a towering pine tree. From its former glory, her body became ruins of crimson. She remembers the resounding CRACK - like a burst of lightning - that turned her insides over in horror and sent an earthquake through her body, knocking her twig-like legs from underneath her. She collapsed to the ground, the breath bolting out of her lungs, driven by the force of the sudden fall, leaving her suffocating beneath the shock and utter despair.

And the third thievery, her sister. Annakin was a little girl with the sun as her heart and stars as her guide. But she strayed off path and - and

fell,

into an abyss far beyond her reach.

It is a void she fell into herself, an inescapable hell constructed by her very own despair. It exists within her, its foundation cemented upon stolen souls and its stone walls built around her heart. There, she remains, the air slowly depleting from her lungs in her merciless prison. On the prison's cursed granite ground she has bled and bled and bled, until her veins are drier than her sister's bones and her heart has given way, exhaustion snuffing out the strength it once hummed with.

The broken girl in the lake's surface is me.

I recognize her - the sunken cheekbones, the lifeless skin, the broken eyes. Joy is a ghost that was reaped with my family, never to return. And with it, left the rosiness in my cheeks and the light in my eyes and the cheerful note in my tone. Never to return.

The bridge creeks beneath my feet and the weight of the bricks tied to my ankles, scraping against the wood as I approach the brink - the brink of the end. The gentle tick tock of the clock pendant around my neck rings in my ears. Its soft sound soothes the tears but not the depression raging inside. I can barely hear it over the internal screams that blare through my veins, sending quivers to my fingers.

Tick. Tock.

I jump fall.

And not into an abyss of despair. (I cannot fall into a place I am already chained to.)

The lake.

Adrenalin rushes through me, burning hotter than Annakin's sun. It is not a thrill; it is a rush that sinks my heart. I can feel the end brushing against my fingertips, its lips inches from my flesh. The wind roars through my hair and whips against my skin and then

I hit the surface.

It shatters.

I have plunged into the water, seemingly endless from where I stood on the edge of the bridge. I can see the bottom, far from me.

Tick, tock.

And then suddenly, I am forced by the weight fastened to my ankles, down

down

down

down

down.

In my vision, blurred by the fathoms of water, I see the sunlight filtering in, its beams glowing with benevolence. Perhaps it is an angel coming to take my hand or perhaps it is Death in a celestial disguise, reaching out his hand with intentions to add me to his collection.

Tick, tock.

My lungs are ablaze. They scream desperately for air and my heart harmonizes with them, screaming for life. My eyes beg for one more glance at the sky and its fluctuating colors. My tongue pleads for one final word, one last "I love you."

The screams fade to silence as the agony surrounds me, sinking its teeth into the insides of my chest. It is fire, it is furious, but it is nothing compared to the anguish that seethes in my bones and rakes its claws all around the hollowed insides of my heart.

Tick, tock.

Black sprays across my vision - the first glimpse of the end - blotting out the streams of sunlight.

Down

down

down

down,

there is no resurface.

Not from the abyss. Not from here.

My lungs burst.

And I gasp, my lungs yearning for air but receiving only water, rushing into them like thick black tar. The agony closes around my throat, forcing out a bloodcurdling scream that is reduced to a feeble gargle under the water.

The pain ceases.

Tick. Tock.

Blackness creeps over my vision as my body releases my soul, rising to the surface, leaving behind a broken shell.

TICK. TOCK.

The clock sounds empty with the lack of accompaniment by a heartbeat.