A Vision of Beauty

      Wes stood on his deck, his toes curled over the edge as he prepared to plunge himself into its invitingly blue depths. This was here his life had led him. His parents' disappointment in him as a whole, had been quite ceaseless... and quite evident. When he had finally built up the courage to ask her out, the love of his life laughed and, with a flip of her hair, left him standing as everyone in the hallway had laughed at him.

      The worst thing however, the thing that really put an impenetrable blackness through his soul, was the death of his friend that he could have prevented. He should have taken the keys, he had thought about it, but decided against saying anything. The news of the crash had crushed him, left him in more pieces than he could count.

      His eyes refocused on the water. He could see the sky's reflection in it, as the clouds seemed to rock back and forth as the wind pushed and pulled the wavy surface of the water. He was happy that he had picked a beautiful day to do this, it seemed to add more meaning to the silent ceremony he was giving himself. He saw his reflection in the water, just like him: pale, skinny, and unassuming. It was time.

He leaned his weight forward, uncurling his toes, arms outstretched as he fell towards the dancing sunlight in the pool. Falling seemed to take an eternity, his mind raced at a pace unknown. Somewhere in his head he heard music, a sad song of loss played at a funereal, imposed over the grieving masses.

      Then he began to see something in the water, as time began to crawl. The image of a woman, began to form among the ripples of the water once he was parallel to its surface. Her beauty stunned him, she was breathtaking. Her face was as pale as the moon on a clear night, she clearly wore no makeup, which only served to add to his opinion of her. She had a veil covering the top of her head, but a few strands of black hair had rebelled and worked their way out of the front.

      Her most striking feature was her eyes; light amber orbs that seemed too vibrant to be real, even as they were reddened by the tears leaking out of their corners. He desperately wanted to reach out, to comfort her, and to tell her that there would be no worries. He realized that she was speaking, a soft melodic tune, that went unimpeded by the sobs desperately trying to claw their way out.

Now he could hear her as she said, “He was the bravest, most courageous man that I have ever known. And if ever a death truly contained meaning, sacrifice, or purpose... it was his. What he gave may never be repayed, but we can try to live in his honor.” It was a eulogy, so genuinely said that even Wes felt saddened by this man's passing without ever knowing him.

      He wondered what was happening, why he hadn't hit the water yet, but it all seemed so important and so touching that he didn't complain about the unexpected delay; he had nowhere to go but down. The figure continued, “He was loved by so many, and yet still not as many as he deserved. But for those of us who knew him, we can say we were proud. As his wife I can say part of me will always lie in that coffin with him. Rest in Peace my dearest Wes.”

      The last thing caught his attention, and he watched as she walked over to a coffin and put a rose on an ornately carved coffin, was his name, carved upon the gravestone. Time sped up once again and he crashed through the water, and the image of the coffin on its surface. He contemplated what he had seen, as he sunk to the bottom. Was it a message? No, he didn't believe in that sort of thing. He exhaled his breath and felt the bubbles of air work their way out of his mouth as they rose.

He felt his chest hit the bottom, and he embrace the floor, feeling a state of complete, calm acceptance wash over him. He was ready, whatever death would bring, he would not falter. He embraced the oncoming blackness.

      But something didn't seem right. He felt a pushing in his chest, but he had thought he had been in the water long enough for it to happen. More pushing. Now he felt his lungs fill with air, and he felt lips touching his. He opened his eyes, realizing he was now on his back, and saw the sun, broken by blackness, draped over his face. It was someone's wet hair. He felt them breath into his lungs, and with a mighty cough water spilled from his mouth, involuntarily.

      A familiar voice gasped, “I saw you fall in from the street!” His rescuer sat up, breathing heavily. It was a girl, about his age, with pale white skin and the most beautiful amber eyes that he had ever seen.

Author's Note

First draft, any opinions welcome.

Reviews

[Marie]

THis is very good. And it says life to me, not death. I thnk this person tried to commit suicide and then changed his mind and changed his future.

[NoblePariah]

Thank you, and I agree, that was definitely the message I was going for with this one.

[Acropolix]

The story develops quite nicely. You use vivid imagery when describing emotions and appearances, which makes it easy for the reader to identify with the story. It seems as though death, in particular suicide, is a constant theme within your stories. Perhaps I am mistaken, but that's what I'm noticing. Good work for a first draft.

[NoblePariah]

Thank you, I tried to go for imagery with this one, as I thought it was important in this kind of a story. As for the theme of death and suicide, I wouldn't say its in most of my stories, but I recently put in in the newer ones; it isn't really intentional, I just write the storied in the order that they come to me, the way they come to me. However, I do feel death is an important part of life, as without our life would lack a sense of urgency to do anything. I do try to put that in my stories with death in a bit of a subtle way, so it's very possible you've been reading the recent ones I've tried to do that with. Thanks again for the positive review!