The everlasting light dimmed. The room was no longer as bright as the sun, returning to its original state, dark and lonely.

Laying in the middle of this room was a humbled Keith.

Keith Pov

Inhaling the mingling scents that filled the room, my eyes fluttered open and I saw the salty ocean unfolded before my eyes, its majestic waves crashing against the shore. Amidst it all were reminiscent memories permeating the air, evoking my grandfather’s familiar embrace. His old invigorated figure, sowing at the farms seed. The scenes flashed at a blinding speed, for a split second showing the burning fields.

Everything sounds the same, the pebble had synchronized all rhythms in the room to my heartbeat. Or was it the pronouncing silence that deafened my ears and emphasized my beating heart.

My heartbeat raced, each thud reverberating through my chest with an alarming intensity, an unwelcome companion to the sickening realization dawning upon me. The encroaching shadows enveloped my surroundings, as the lightshow of a lifetime had finally halted, casting a deepening gloom that seemed to swallow the very essence of light. A shiver, icy tendrils of fear, crawled its way up my spine, a visceral response to the things that had occurred.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

As bare feet grounded with ground, the ground unfolded a paradoxical sensation. My feet were met with a smooth surface, akin to a polished pane of glass. Enticed with the sleekness, my fingers ran across its texture—the ground was rough, textured with minute imperfections that whispered stories of resilience and weathered existence.

I had failed my suicide attempt, there was rhyme to my madness. Not too bad to condemn torture but bad enough to chip a mighty being’s ego and kill me.

Thinking back, a lot has led up to this moment, maybe I should leave the house for a bit touch some grass and find the bigger picture in my life. Maybe some rest can set me back to one hundred percent.

3rd Pov

Tears flooded out of Keith’s eyes. He was a fool expecting to die. An idiot lost in the world. A deer in headlights. Lost in the depths of an ocean sea and frightened by the complex ecosystem of this ocean.

He walks the conceptual path of virgin. As all paths are, they are long, massive and hard.

His crying slowly turned whimpers continuing to sniffles. Slowly falling to a death with ads, sleep.

A mistake he has made, introspection works best in sleep.

A few hours later,

Ding dong