Let Go

“Let go,” the voice echoed, the hauntingly beautiful melody flowing from my mind and onto the wind and rain that whips me at the edge of the pier. I gaze down into the raging sea below me thoughtfully. I watch every incoming wave crash against the wooden pillars below my boots and follow each one back out into the horizon. ‘There’s no cure,’ my thoughts reassure me. And I didn’t want there to be. That would mean that the item in my trembling hand was a free ticket to restoration. Why should everyone else get a free ticket when I put my ass on the line to cure myself of the plague? Why should I have to embark on a delusional voyage and collapse into the wet earth of the eastern fields to earn a remedy whilst the citizens get theirs served on a fuckin’ silver platter?

I’ve pitted myself against the Six; there is no turning back now. And I hold no regrets. The plague would have taken my old bones before any action to find this miracle panacea would have surfaced. And I was not going to let the few years I have left be swiped away from me because of some fuckin’ disease. It’s simple. I heard the warnings, and I acted upon them. And just liked the scarlet-cloaked figure said, my life was handed back to me. By Her.

And as my hand grew heavy, my grip began to loosen finger by finger. And with each calloused digit’s slow release came a surge of wisdom that a man of my years ‘should’ have. A comforting voice that coaxed, “You’ve done the right thing.” And it was not long before the small platinum key that was once in my hand had now joined the depths of the ocean.