Finality

Trigger Warning: death/murder, imprisionment

Through the corridors of silent eyes watching for my demise, I could see it. The presence of your touch, flitting about with its ghostly palms, reaching forward, tantalizing, tempting, and pulling away when one reached back. You get to me last. I am the showpiece of your collection, the prize of your victory and the cost of my greed.

I could’ve been lonely once, trapped inside this cave of horrors. The chilly nights often make me wonder if my true punishment is to leave me without those I loved most: memories. I am able to look upon the moon, at least, and on nights where the chains around my wrists feel as if they wrap around my very soul, the moon brings me comfort. Something arises within me whenever I look at the moon, like a sense of familiarity. Like a hundred different versions of me have lived through what I have, and we are all looking at the same broken star. Solidarity, I suppose.

That’s why I’m not afraid when he drags me out from my cell to face the creatures that will end my life. The way the chains clank and hiss against bare stone when he turns me about, the way he grips my left shoulder and looks to the crowd. I can only see the silhouette of his grin, but yes, yes, I remember how the shadows shift beneath their feet as daybreak peeks through the barred ceiling. I remember his low growl in my ear, an incoherent warning. I remember his hands leaving my hips and the cold immediately embracing me with its furious gaze. I remember it all, and so I know what happens next.

I’m afraid of the meaning of this moment. Now that I remember, it will surely be my final death. Am I ready for it all to end? Will I get a chance to say goodbye to the one I love most?

My love, my love, the moon. Remember me, won’t you?