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by ELC Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Nature · #2316531
Loving you
Chapter 1 Loving you
I’m an old man now. I’m reaching the end of the line and I’ve even begun seeing double. Along with a blinding light from my ceiling getting ever brighter as my life reaches closer to its end. I call it heavens light, it’s been up there for years now and finally is the brightest i’d ever seen it.

Throughout my life I’d like to say I had no regrets but… I know that wasn’t true. Because even now, I still see her, at my door, right there she seems so close. But as I crawl, drag my corpse along the floor to one last time touch her, I once again realize that she is no longer with me.

They say your life flashes before your eyes as your life reaches its last page but that is only the surface. You won’t know what it’s like until It happens to you. It’ll happen to everyone, there's no preparation for this.

Only a short time is left, so I better use it wisely. One last time I’ll remember her, just one last time I better write it down. If anyone is still here on this rock then I hope you read this and know you weren’t alone. I was here too and I had a name. My name is Gryce and this was my life before everyone left.

An angel made its way into my life in the form of a young woman when I was in my early twenties. Sixty eight or so years had passed since then but still the knot, that sickening feeling in my chest had never left. Only grown stronger, I never tried to forget, I know she wouldn’t want that.
If it was any other time in my life I could describe her for you but through the passage of deterioration my mind has gone through because of this cursed island , that is no longer possible. Life is cruel in that way and in others it is blissful. The few memories that stayed intact are the examples of the blessing God gave me.

I was beginning my life, a young man looking for the slightest thing to lift my pedestal above the rest of the people in the city. Ichemound was a cruel place for those without that tough exterior, I was blessed to be the lucky few that did, but that didn’t stop that city's ugly hand from tearing it away little by little.

You might not believe this and I don’t blame you if you didn’t see how it was back then but Ichemound in those years was controlled by a king. It was a monarchy. Solomon Grimmer was a king in some ways and the devil in others, to me they went hand and hand. His rightful gestures would befall either chaos for one group of people and change on a drop of dime to benefactory as if it was nothing. It was only when

I left Ichemound when I realized what that city does to people, it was only by the grace of God I escaped but I was too young and naive at the time to realize it wasn't just the city at fault, it was the island itself.

I spent a majority of my life there and for better or for worse it made me numb to many of life's atrocities. I don't think the way you may and that is fine. I've accepted my twisted reality long ago and the women who accepted such things were there to assure me that it was alright to be this way. She'd tell me how it was outside of the island, how different it was and how she ended up here. I didn't understand but I believe what she went through back then is what could've happened to her if things went differently. Her life outside of Toblitche in every way was different and the aura that enveloped her made everyone that came into her watch know how different she was compared to us all and though her words and face may have been forgotten that feeling of her aura never left me.

She was older than I was but not by many years, ten maybe nine when she arrived in Ichemound. I didn't think much of her at the time, my own judgment and the way I'd been raised prevented me from immediately realizing what was so different about her. But it was shortly after when I realized what made her so special. She had a soul. When we talked and she heard my stories of the many happenings of this city I received a response that I'd never before been given. Empathy. I knew the word but had never experienced it myself, no one I knew had until then.

To say her arrival changed my life was an understatement. Her arrival changed my world. I could hardly describe how much that city had twisted our minds into believing what happened was right, preventing us from reaching enlightenment and having our place with the lord . I was saved not only in my mind but my soul for a moment. I felt forgiven, absolved from my crimes. But Toblitche has a way to rip such things apart and due time it did.
We decided to run. Together we settled on the coast and began to build our escape. We decided to build a boat in secret.

Toblitche had “strict laws” when it came to outside relations of any kind, so much so the mere mention of the outside was punished by methods of torture and depravity, it's a surprise hellfire never came to kill us all. But I don't believe the reason punishment was given was because of this, no. Even then, I was wise enough to know, the outside world didn't know we existed. Before she ever came into my life I knew already. They wanted it to be kept hidden.

The moment we departed into the open space I knew something was wrong. The sky had turned a disgusting gray filled with anger that shook the sea bed and a swarm of lightning like fireflies were the only thing in front of us that we could still see. In the few moments we were out there not only did the waves become unpredictable and rapid, a fog crept its way into our surroundings. We were in hell.
Most of my life felt like a haze but even now maybe even more than ever did this moment feel so real and horrifying. That wind, that earth shattering wind that could have in a second capsized us into the elements. But it hadn't; it came close but it never fully achieved it. I don't think that was its objective, in my older years, my wiser era, what it wanted to achieve, it had done. It wanted to separate us, the island itself was punishing us.

I held onto her tightly until both our hands turned a prune white, all the while I held onto the reins as if my life depended on it. But even then it was still not enough. Just a second later my hand no longer held hers, and in my last memories of that day I made it back to shore and the storm cleared.

I spent weeks searching that shore, maybe even months but I was left with nothing. Nothing of worth, not a damn thing was there, not even the memory of her stayed. I know she was there, I knew her name and I could describe her in fine detail over and over until your ears bled. But after that day it was gone and only a pale imitation haunted me until the end of my days and as further punishment for attempting to leave this decrepit rock I was cursed. I was no longer on Toblitche, It was like a copy of my own personal hell. No one was here, everyone was gone , the building stayed but there was no one to fill them. Their belongings ,their memories all gone.
But the buildings stayed, I stayed.
But still that didn't matter. I made my peace long ago, but my regret stemmed from dragging her into this mess. That unknowing figure that even now is at my door isn’t her. But I have no way of confirming this or not. It taunts me but I don't know what for or what its end goal is.
While I still live, while I still have the strength let me give you one final warning if God forbid you come across this note
If you've come this far and still hold hope I pity you. Toblitche even this copy is the same. If one does not believe in christ consider suicide and if you do believe, salvation is the only answer. Because hell exists and its buried in the sea surrounding this land. My only regret was meeting her.
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