Hi my awesome readers! I'm back again with a new entry. I know I always say this, but I think this one should be my fave entry. Yes yes I'll stick to that. Enjoy!

Resisting the Inner Grim
He took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh oxygen-filled air, his nostrils flaring with the salty scent of the sea. He let his pressurized lungs expand as he stretched the length of his back. He used his paw to scratch an itch right behind his left ear. The cold breeze gently ruffled his fur. Tiny water droplets prickled his dry face, it felt cool and uplifting. These were all signs of regaining what he’s been deprived of for years; freedom!

He had almost forgotten what the world outside the enclosed walls of the rotten prison must have looked like. He remembered it being beautiful, spacious and pleasant but not to this extent. The deep well-like cellar chambers may have served him as residence for the longest time, but he had never got used to its conditions, never. It counted more as a tomb than anything since he never lived in that horrid place. He died everyday of his waking life.

Yet, he had managed to survive. How you may ask? His hope for survival was fueled by the mere thought of his innocence. That’s how he had managed to retain his sanity. That’s how he avoided being entirely devoured by the ghastly visions and thoughts implanted into his mind by those demons as he called them. Those screams… how he would give anything to just escape the dreadful memories. He shivered form head to toe just by being reminded of his past. Time was running out and there was no way he would be willing or even bearing to set a foot back in his nightmares. With that thought he managed a good load of air in his longs and dived head first into the depth of the stormy sea.

He swam with all his might. He span in the twirling waters, the angry waves slashing against his feeble body. With all his might, all the strength left in his muscles, he moved forward against the current’s direction, a droplet in this vast sea, him against the whole world. It hurt to know what lies were spoke against him. It’s not true, he thought. It was totally unfair. He wanted to scream out against the world, to let them know they were wrong. Too bad, his voice was drowned. His lungs strived to remain resistant and breathe. It was proving to be harder than he had expected.

Every ounce of his body ached; he threw his arms and legs around frantically. No one was there to come to his aid, and if there was anyone nearby, they wouldn’t consider giving him a helping hand in the first place. Who would want to help a murderer? Who would even dare to touch him? He was dirty. Alas none of them were aware of the pureness of his soul. He was as clean as one could be, cleansed from all sins and washed by the sea. He had endured hell and there was no way he would be thrown in there again, either dead or alive.

Must keep going… must… must carry on. He couldn’t, he simply wasn’t strong enough to resist. The sea was much more powerful than he was. A moment of hesitation and he was thrust back and the angry waves came crashing against him. He couldn’t breathe. Luckily he came to the surface, just giving him enough time to suck in air, along with a gush of water and then he was surrounded by water once again. He was confused. He couldn’t tell which way was up or where was down. He desperately searched for the surface of the water. It was all a blur.

Too late, he was dying. What a terrible way to die. No one would ever know the truth. No one would ever burry his body. He would be drowned in vain in the deepness of this unfathomable sea, along with his life’s story. Unfair, injustice, brutality…

No! He was not going to give up! He shouldn’t give up! After all these years, after so much that he had gone through he just couldn’t allow it. He was going to fight. He was going to fight back like a soldier that he was. The prison had made a warrior out of him. He had learned to endure and resist the impossible. He had learned to escape the demon’s menacing chill. He had learned to rely on his memory. That was his safe haven. That is where all his happy memories were buried. He was a dead man, but today, he was reborn… and so were his hopes. He found his voice, the voice in the back of his head which encouraged him to resist.

He didn’t know where he regained that much strength from but he swam like a shark. He swam up, still uncertain whether he would meet the water’s surface as he couldn’t tell directions apart. A pressure was forcing down on his lungs. Yet he swam, he swam on. The voice told him to remember what lay behind the shores. He must see his face again, the baby he once cared for… their son. Everything would be okay. He knew it. He would be happy again and be able to speak to his defense as a free man.

And… he saw light and inhaled deeply through his lungs; he had managed to survive… yet again! Miracles can happen when you have the will of mind. His muscles, his legs, his arms and his lungs were only a small part of why he existed thus far. It was his mind which had managed to get him this far. And if he could do the impossible things he’s done until this point, he could swim through the rest. Nothing was unattainable. As the saying goes, never say never, he thought to himself. He swam on...

How strange was it that he was feeding on the happy memories in order to survive? Well at least he had learned something after all these years shadowed by their gloomy presence. They weren't so pointless after all!



The End



-Ava. G-