Light of the Darkness

© Black Tangled Heart

A/N: Mine. All mine. Yay.


Riley stood on the slippery opaque rocks, watching the restless ocean rise and its crest swell in a passionate rush of cobalt glory. His sullen green eyes scrutinized the froth as it tumbled and hissed, churning across the water and crashing upon the soft, glistening shore, glowing in the iridescent tendrils of silvery moonlight.

He dug his callused heel into the black surface beneath him, knowing his body would soon slide into the cruel embrace of the water below, but he didn't care.

His limbs felt like lead; his mind was aflame with pain. The bruised sky above him flared an angry burgundy. Rain fell in torrents across his back, lashing his skin with malicious fingers of ice.

Life was nothing; he was nothing.


If she couldn't sleep in his arms like a child, he couldn't ever fall into dreams. If he couldn't watch her eyes open as golden rays of sunrise caressed her face, there was no use waking every morning.

If dusk to dawn could not be spent with her, it was better to never be spent at all.

His shoulders lurched forward, and his naked body plummeted almost gracefully into the blackening waves below. The brine clawed at his bones and ripped flesh from muscle. His lungs closed like a decaying flower as he was sucked under the ocean's vehement crest.

The tempest engulfed him; he welcomed the pounding in his head as oxygen slowly leaked from his body, like all the tears he'd cried as they'd lowered her coffin into the ground. So many tears as he'd held her lifeless body in his arms one last time.

As he'd kissed her icy skin he'd remembered all their moments of joy.

He could hear her laughter as they danced the night away beneath a smoky strobe light that made her golden hair shimmer like iridescent stars. Her kiss was soft and sweet, enrapturing his senses. The sparkle in her eyes had made him happy to be living.

That Saturday night had been so long ago, but it remained seared poignantly into his memory.

He could still see the masked faces and the sweaty hands that held the shotguns. Screams echoed in his mind as people scattered, fleeing the once-overflowing party like scared rabbits escaping the hands of a trapper, ready to lock the animals down and strip their lives away.

When the bullet that was meant for scare had struck her in the ribcage, she had cried on his shoulder, clutching the deep, bloodied void with scarlet fingers. She had wept in his arms, and he had screamed inside.

The malicious hooded figures had glided silently away, unseen.

The remnant partygoers were pale, disbelief staining their faces. A candlelit vigil had taken place amidst the cluttered, greasy pizza boxes and empty cola bottles.

When her real funeral was held, they dressed her in satin and adorned her with rose petals and diamonds, laying her to rest like a princess; a princess in peace.

But he wasn't at peace.

Oh, how he'd cried…

She had joined the darkness saturated with tears.

Now it was his turn.