Fiction
Oblitus Julianna Baker The dock squeaked and swayed as Beretta stepped onto it. The wood was chipped and splintered and sounded like it could just barely hold her weight. She looked out at the sea; it was aquamarine, bright in a way that she had not seen in any other body of water. The top of the water was foggy. Not a hint of what was under the surface peeked through, but Beretta knew that under the fogged water the sea dropped thousands of feet. Beretta took a deep breath. The smell of salt was absent and it made her uneasy. She had to get across, to the the dock, to where steps descended into the water. Exploring was in Beretta’s blood. She was a sailor through and through, and in her life, she had sailed across every ocean and sea. But while she had heard stories of the Oblitus Sea and the Island of Antillia right at its center, she had never been stupid or desperate enough to dare attempt to journey through it. She wished she wasn’t that desperate now. and the next. As she moved, she felt no resistance like she thought she would. She walked, unable to see her own feet, until just her head breached the surface. She turned and looked back, to the rickety dock and toward the town where she knew Alfred lay in the medical ward’s bed. She looked down at the water; it did not shift or sway, even with her own movements. It stayed eerily still. She felt sick to her stomach, for this was not a regular body of water. She tried not to think about what it could hold and instead took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and took the last few steps, submerging herself completely. Eyes closed, Beretta moved blindly forward and down the steps. She moved easily through the water, like it wasn’t other side. Though the mist blocked sight of the world above, the light went straight through it. The water around her was it did not sting. It was like breathing in a dense fog. She allowed herself a moment to get used to the feeling, and then began her descent down the stairs. ***** The stairs creaked and groaned with every step Beretta took. She did not know how long she had been walking. Four hours? Five? Still, she did not let herself stop. Alfred did not have long. Did not have the hours or days this journey was said to take. the clearer it became. The groaning of the stairs seemed only to grow with each step, but she could not stop, not when she was so close. Another hour and a half went by before Beretta turned and could see the last set of stairs and the sand at the bottom. The stairs groaned louder as she came closer, until she paused on the last step. When she looked up, the the stair, her boots sinking a few inches into the sand. The stairs moaned behind her. Beretta rushed back a few steps as she watched the stairs fall apart, turning into No turning back. water. She turned to the large expanse now laid out before her. The sands stretched far out of her sight. There was the tiredness in her limbs and walked forward.
KIOSK2021
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