Siren's Call (1/1)
Title: Siren's Call
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Naomi/Emily
Summary: Naomi was just the tipping point.
Disclaimer: If it was mine, I wouldn't need a disclaimer.
Warning: Mention of suicide... a lot.
Notes: Written in an angst-off with miss_peg. Also for skinsprompt table D: prompt: Sanctuary
Siren's Call
She swears she hears the sound of footsteps behind her. Emily turns, but nobody's there. Swallowing hard, she faces forward and continues heading towards the river.
Water, it ceaselessly changes, ever ebbing and flowing. It doesn't stay the same, not even for a second.
She feels like she's being pulled towards it, like she needs to get there and fast.
They're two kindred spirits, really.
It had taken her a good half an hour drive to get here, but still she cannot get to the side of the river fast enough. The sandy banks are calling for her, pleading for her to hurry up.
Slowly, she slips off her shoes and parks them neatly beside a rubbish bin. Maybe, somebody else will pick them up and wonder where their owner has gone.
She doesn't know and she doesn't care. Not now, not anymore.
Her feet sink into the wet sand. It's cool beneath her soles. If she weren't feeling the way she did, then maybe they would have awakened her senses, made her stop and think what she is actually doing.
As it is, all she can do is move closer and closer to the water.
For a short while, she chooses to stop. Not because she's scared, oh no, why would she be? Instead, she wants to watch the water, the debris as it floats on past to another life. A better one? Maybe. But equally, it could be so much worse.
Oh what it would be like to float away on the water, to allow herself to be dragged away to whatever fate held in store for her.
But isn't that what she's been doing all her life? Isn't that why she loves the water so much?
Isn't that why she's here, right now?
The sunset also gives her reason to pause. It's been a glorious summer's day in Bristol, such bittersweet irony. The world seems to be choosing to wake up just as she, is being forced to shrivel up and die like the autumnal leaf fall. Or maybe, it's just marking the end of her time with tragic irony. Let's see one last beautiful thing before everything must end.
Because everything does, sooner or later. There's no fighting against the inevitable.
Just the ability to speed it up a little, if you so choose.
Tucking a strand of red hair behind one ear, Emily finally takes her first step into the icy waters. Just because the day has been warm, it doesn't mean that the river is going to mimic the hot air. It chills her to the bone, but she doesn't care, because all over, she feels numb.
How can a person expect to survive when their heart - when everything - has been cruelly stolen from them in one stinking blast?
It's not long until she's waist deep, her hands delicately hovering above the water. She's half tempted to submerge herself here and now, but that would be no good. Not enough water, too tempting to resurface for that strangled gasp of air. Emily remembers games she used to play with Katie, seeing who could stay submerged for the longest. She never won; autonomous reactions, that visceral need for breath always overpowered her.
But not today; this time, she's in control, because she has to be.
She walks further and further, until her toes are struggling to reach the ground.
This is Naomi's fault.
Well, not really. Or at least, not entirely.
She was just the tipping point - that is all. Emily isn't even going to give her the perverse pleasure of being entirely to blame for being the one to push her over into the abyss, or rather, the watery depths of the River Avon.
Tears catch on her eyelashes as images of the blonde cross to the forefront of her mind. Good. That's all the more water for her to choke on, Emily considers. All the more water for her to drown in. It's just fucking perfect that way.
And besides, Naomi will never know that she's shed these tears for - because of - her. The water surrounding her, calling to her like a siren to a sailor, is more than enough to wash away all evidence of her anguish before her bloated body is discovered.
Emily finds she's adjusting to the water temperature now, even with the cooling air around her. It's surprised her just how long she's taken to get to the centrepoint of the river; the sun has nearly set entirely. A few remaining sparkling rays peeking out over the horizon are all that's left.
She takes a deep breath.
Now is as good a time as any.
It's time for her to take her final curtain call, to say goodbye to everything.
Weeds tangle around her legs as she finally submerges herself into the water. They are her flowers, good enough for one who pales in comparison to the ethereal beauty of Ophelia. It's their greeting she's accepting now, and having them tether her down to the ground is almost a comfort.
The stabbing in her side, in her lungs, calling out for a desperate, final reprieve is growing unbearable. Not long now, not long.
The pain will be over soon.
It will.