Leagues Under


          Leagues Under  sad stories

angelakim2 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
A fun little short story i wrote up. Provoking read....please comment!

Leagues Under

by Angela Kim -bored teenager -super bored -pls comment im bored -dont worry im not mentally ill

It was my presumption, my error to believe that my lighthouse would last forever. My once venerable lighthouse, to which I reckoned to be a goddess.

Now what remains of her is consumed by the sea in a ceaseless turbulence. The light once shone down on me with such alacrity, this eagerness to guide me. Then it started.

The light became languid, barely shining, barely wanting to shine. I should have known. My anger seething, my misery grieving.

Where’s my light? Perhaps the darkness is the propensity of my affair. My consternation rooted from my incompetent soul.

Without my lighthouse, darkness pervades my mind, ever consuming, having no mercy. Now, I lay on my rickety vessel, who carries me across the sea.

Who has been with me since the dawn of my consciousness. I am incapable of knowing if I am awake or in a dreaming state. Perhaps I am a somnambulist? Perhaps my lighthouse never faded.

Where could she have gone? A sudden influx of doubt ruins my dark placidity.

All this time I have been seeking my lighthouse, but shall I commit my individuality to her? These ropes on my ankles bring me back to reality.

The cinder blocks padding the soles of my feet ruin my benign darkness. Shall I seek my lighthouse, my silver spoon, or shall I seek my divine ascetic, my God given right.

This doubt elicits, nay unveils my earnest musings. My whole life my lighthouse guided me. It is this dependence that became my hamartia.

My heart may be broken, but may I go on? Nevermore shall I have my guiding light, but does that perhaps betoken my freedom from my hamartia? I stare out into tranquil ebb of the sea.

Contemplating. Contemplating. My lighthouse bears the sea as her pall as would a coffin bear a cloth. Sedentary are my movements, as I cannot stop contemplating.

Time is no longer existent in my realm. The thought of a future without the light frightens me. As if it were kismet, I unconsciously pull myself to the edge.

The darkness without my lighthouse has immutability, its unchanging, unescapable. I gasp as I hit the shivering salty sea.

Where art thou mother? My lighthouse, my goddess, I shall join you in cowardness at last.

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