Not everything you see is true. Some are illusions wearing the mask of truth. Dad always taught me this for years.

In our world, no one is trusted. Not even your family. If you overlook the warning of it, you'll be dragged right into it. So, prepare your grave before you do the mistake.

And many do this mistake because maybe death chooses their turn and jumps with force on the person who was never in the line. It's luck.

You escape freely or die with dark eyes right straight staring into your soul so deep that you can't take that pair of eyes out. It'll hurt, and it won't leave too.

It's no one's fault.

You never know if it's your turn or not. And no one can know.

Some wait for it desperately and death gives them the long way and those who just got a meaning to their life, get caught in its ruthless claws and never come out and get dragged into the black ocean of ink.

Death.

The night is swallowing everything whole.

The cliff edge is unforgiving beneath my heels.

Below, the ocean doesn't sleep. It never does.

The waves just don't arrive, they attack. Each one builds from somewhere deep and invisible, gathering everything it has, and then hurls itself with the full weight of its fury against the rocks below.

The collision is violent. Brutal. The kind that leaves nothing untouched.

White foam erupts on impact, spraying upward like the ocean is trying to claw its way onto land, reaching for something it can never have.

And then it pulls back. Drags itself away with a low, hollow groan that vibrates somewhere deep in the chest. Only to build again. Only to crash again.

The rocks don't move.

They never do.

They just stand there, dark and slick and ancient, taking every single hit without flinching. Without breaking.

The water tears itself apart against them every time and the rocks remain exactly as they were. Unbothered. Unmoved. Like they've seen every storm this ocean has ever thrown and decided long ago that none of it was worth reacting to.

The night air is sharp here. Cold in the way that doesn't just touch skin, it directly gets underneath it. Presses into bones mercilessly.

The wind moves in from the water carrying salt and something older, something that smells like the bottom of the world where light has never reached.

The moon sits low and heavy tonight, bleeding silver light across the surface of the water so that between the crashing waves, the ocean looks almost still. Almost peaceful.

A lie the water tells between its fits of violence. The horizon where the black sky meets the black water is invisible, the two bleeding into each other seamlessly until there is no telling where one ends and the other begins.

I've been standing here for a while now, watching. Feeling the salt settle on my skin and lips. Listening to the ocean wage its war against the rocks below.

There is something honest about it.

The ocean doesn't pretend it isn't violent. It doesn't dress its destruction in something prettier. It simply is what it is, endlessly and without apology.

The cold doesn't bother me. It never has.

And interesting thing? You can see the dark pair of eyes of death just before you are about to drown in the black ocean.

"You shouldn't have dug about that matter. You. Should. Have. Never. Looked. Into. The. Matter."

A voice echoes behind me in a dark silken tone.

I turn my head to look at the owner of the voice. As soon as my eyes land, they widen slightly before I mask it back to neutral again.

So, after everything, what you find out is not a lie. Some are.

The face is known but the voice is unfamiliar.

The person takes a step towards me but I don't step back. I don't make any move, there’s no need of it.

The person keeps coming closer until I feel cold breath hitting my face along with the cold air wrapping around us both.

The waves below crash again, violent and indifferent, and the sound swallows the silence between us whole.

"You know that most people in your world die from the hands of betrayal. You know why?"

I look into the black eyes staring down at me as the words entangle me slowly in a web I already knew was there. I keep looking. And a tear unknowingly slips from my one eye.

Reason? Lies.

Seeing this, the person chuckles, raises a hand slowly and wipes it away, the gesture soft. Almost tender. Like caressing something toward a betterment it will never reach.

When really, the hand that touches me only knows destruction and it means now too.

"It's either because of a situation which forces them to take action or... people become selfish."

I stay silent.

The person smiles. The kind of smile that people who don't know what lives behind it would be smitten by. Beautiful and warm and perfectly constructed.

But when you know the black soul it belongs to, your own soul will shiver and try to escape your own body.

Betrayal can be of two things. From people you chose to keep close, or your own body.

You'll try to stay safe from everyone and even if you succeed, death only gives you a fleeting moment's happiness. It won't let you celebrate long.

And your own body will betray you after that.

Your soul will try to get out, try to run far away so it doesn't drown in black ink. It'll try every way possible to keep itself safe but your body will take a step toward instead of going back and running no matter how hard you try to stop it.

And eventually, the soul has to give in.

They have no option. It never had.

I burst out laughing. The sound feels strange even to myself, too light for this cliff, too light for this night. And the smile in front of me stays wide and awake, patient, as if it has been waiting for me all along.

Waiting to swallow me whole.

But I don't feel what people would have felt standing where I'm standing. I don't feel what they would expect me to feel.

"For a reason, we are taught about life so we can glide in our path in any way." I hold their gaze without flinching.

"And there are also many things we need to find out ourselves. No one can help or warn you before that."

I reach forward slowly and caress away a fallen strand of hair from the person's forehead.

The smile disappears in an instant. Like it never existed. The black eyes turn murderous.

"People die from either their own fault or because of other's fault." The words come slow and deliberate, each one pressed down with intention, trying to wake something in me.

Fear.

Panic.

The desperate animal need to survive. Trying to make this game of dragging more interesting.

But they died the moment I stepped onto this cliff.

"Mostly, they die naturally."

The person raises a brow.

I nod and take a step back. A stone loosens from the edge behind my heel and tumbles backward, disappearing into the dark below, swallowed by the crashing waves without a sound.

"Some fear death, some don't."

The person takes a step forward and smirks. "Both are expected. What's the fun if only one exists?"

Now it's my turn to smirk. But the person's doesn't falter either.

"Some failures try to put fear even when they know they are useless."

The smirk disappears. The person's hands clench into fists.

Towering over me now, looking down with that same murderous look in the black orbs but now there are glints of something else swimming in that darkness.

Guilt.

Hurt.

Pain.

But it gets swallowed quickly, pulled under like everything else, drowned in ink before it can surface long enough to matter.

Then a sharp pain pierces through my body and I feel warm liquid seeping into my clothes. The pain is mind numbing but I still hold the thin string of control. Don't letting it go. Not yet.

"Provoking isn't good for life, dear Eva. That too when death is fucking standing in front of you."

Something twists inside and more unbearable pain runs through every nerve. I fight the urge to curl into myself.

"Truths don't change, you dear trash." The person grabs my shoulder and leans down, whispering against my ear. "Everyone wants love but only few get their wish fulfilled."

The twist happens again and the warmth turns cold, spreading outward like ink dropped into water. Slow. Unstoppable.

"People who never even wanted love, they also get it and it changes few and for others, it becomes the reason of their destruction."

Another step. The pain intensifies.

"After her, I gave you her place. You're the only one who looked and gave while taking double. I never minded that. But warnings are given for a reason. Many ignores them."

The person falls silent.

The ocean below fills it.

"Like you did. And you're standing on the edge of your death."

I laugh even though there’s nothing really to laugh about. Sounding maniac.

"Everyone gets to know that not everything that looks is the ultimate truth. They have another side to look at, but they don't do that. Instead, they even totally forget about that."

I let the weight of my words settle very heavily between us. "Like you."

The person scoffs. "Like me? How about you glance at yourself first?" The tone is mocking but something underneath it is beginning to crack.

Just like I thought.

"Have you listened carefully?"

The black eyes bloom with confusion and then slowly, quietly, with a helplessness the person cannot hide— curiosity.

Everything falls silent.

Even the wind pauses.

I don't think I can stay much longer.

I take another step back. The person's eyes are still on me but they aren't really looking at me anymore.

They are lost somewhere inside the tangle of words and lies and truths mixed together so thoroughly that not even the person who spoke them can separate them now.

"Some regret and some leave others to regret for it."

I say and smile as another tear slides down because of the pain I haven't named out loud. Those black eyes snap out of their trance and focus on me sharply and clearly and then —

They widen.

The realization crashes into the black orbs so hard it tumbles with the murderous look already living there, waves against rock, and for just a moment the two exist together in those eyes.

Destruction and devastation wearing the same face.

But it's late.

It was always going to be late.

The person takes a step toward me and I lash the last move.

"I would love to see you cry your whole life when you won't find what you're finding for."

Anger blackens the eyes again. The person steps forward directly, closing the last distance between us. "You've nothing."

I chuckle.

Right. I don't have anything. But sometimes instinct can make you remember what you're doing and why you started.

"I'd have loved to kill her with my own hands if I could. It'd have been fun watching you wail."

I smirk because I know exactly which nerve that hit and how hard.

The person’s hand grabs my shoulder.

"You want to kill her? Fine, die yourself to find out how it really feels, you fucker."

And then the person pushes me.

Hard.

Backward.

And I tumble off the cliff.

The black orbs keep watching my fall from above, pain and anger burning together in their wake, and I don't look away from them as I go down.

I hold t

Not everything you see is true. Some are illusions wearing the mask of truth. Dad always taught me this for years.

In our world, no one is trusted. Not even your family. If you overlook the warning of it, you'll be dragged right into it. So, prepare your grave before you do the mistake.

And many do this mistake because maybe death chooses their turn and jumps with force on the person who was never in the line. It's luck.

You escape freely or die with dark eyes right straight staring into your soul so deep that you can't take that pair of eyes out. It'll hurt, and it won't leave too.

It's no one's fault.

You never know if it's your turn or not. And no one can know.

Some wait for it desperately and death gives them the long way and those who just got a meaning to their life, get caught in its ruthless claws and never come out and get dragged into the black ocean of ink.

Death.

The night is swallowing everything whole.

The cliff edge is unforgiving beneath my heels.

Below, the ocean doesn't sleep. It never does.

The waves just don't arrive, they attack. Each one builds from somewhere deep and invisible, gathering everything it has, and then hurls itself with the full weight of its fury against the rocks below.

The collision is violent. Brutal. The kind that leaves nothing untouched.

White foam erupts on impact, spraying upward like the ocean is trying to claw its way onto land, reaching for something it can never have.

And then it pulls back. Drags itself away with a low, hollow groan that vibrates somewhere deep in the chest. Only to build again. Only to crash again.

The rocks don't move.

They never do.

They just stand there, dark and slick and ancient, taking every single hit without flinching. Without breaking.

The water tears itself apart against them every time and the rocks remain exactly as they were. Unbothered. Unmoved. Like they've seen every storm this ocean has ever thrown and decided long ago that none of it was worth reacting to.

The night air is sharp here. Cold in the way that doesn't just touch skin, it directly gets underneath it. Presses into bones mercilessly.

The wind moves in from the water carrying salt and something older, something that smells like the bottom of the world where light has never reached.

The moon sits low and heavy tonight, bleeding silver light across the surface of the water so that between the crashing waves, the ocean looks almost still. Almost peaceful.

A lie the water tells between its fits of violence. The horizon where the black sky meets the black water is invisible, the two bleeding into each other seamlessly until there is no telling where one ends and the other begins.

I've been standing here for a while now, watching. Feeling the salt settle on my skin and lips. Listening to the ocean wage its war against the rocks below.

There is something honest about it.

The ocean doesn't pretend it isn't violent. It doesn't dress its destruction in something prettier. It simply is what it is, endlessly and without apology.

The cold doesn't bother me. It never has.

And interesting thing? You can see the dark pair of eyes of death just before you are about to drown in the black ocean.

"You shouldn't have dug about that matter. You. Should. Have. Never. Looked. Into. The. Matter."

A voice echoes behind me in a dark silken tone.

I turn my head to look at the owner of the voice. As soon as my eyes land, they widen slightly before I mask it back to neutral again.

So, after everything, what you find out is not a lie. Some are.

The face is known but the voice is unfamiliar.

The person takes a step towards me but I don't step back. I don't make any move, there’s no need of it.

The person keeps coming closer until I feel cold breath hitting my face along with the cold air wrapping around us both.

The waves below crash again, violent and indifferent, and the sound swallows the silence between us whole.

"You know that most people in your world die from the hands of betrayal. You know why?"

I look into the black eyes staring down at me as the words entangle me slowly in a web I already knew was there. I keep looking. And a tear unknowingly slips from my one eye.

Reason? Lies.

Seeing this, the person chuckles, raises a hand slowly and wipes it away, the gesture soft. Almost tender. Like caressing something toward a betterment it will never reach.

When really, the hand that touches me only knows destruction and it means now too.

"It's either because of a situation which forces them to take action or... people become selfish."

I stay silent.

The person smiles. The kind of smile that people who don't know what lives behind it would be smitten by. Beautiful and warm and perfectly constructed.

But when you know the black soul it belongs to, your own soul will shiver and try to escape your own body.

Betrayal can be of two things. From people you chose to keep close, or your own body.

You'll try to stay safe from everyone and even if you succeed, death only gives you a fleeting moment's happiness. It won't let you celebrate long.

And your own body will betray you after that.

Your soul will try to get out, try to run far away so it doesn't drown in black ink. It'll try every way possible to keep itself safe but your body will take a step toward instead of going back and running no matter how hard you try to stop it.

And eventually, the soul has to give in.

They have no option. It never had.

I burst out laughing. The sound feels strange even to myself, too light for this cliff, too light for this night. And the smile in front of me stays wide and awake, patient, as if it has been waiting for me all along.

Waiting to swallow me whole.

But I don't feel what people would have felt standing where I'm standing. I don't feel what they would expect me to feel.

"For a reason, we are taught about life so we can glide in our path in any way." I hold their gaze without flinching.

"And there are also many things we need to find out ourselves. No one can help or warn you before that."

I reach forward slowly and caress away a fallen strand of hair from the person's forehead.

The smile disappears in an instant. Like it never existed. The black eyes turn murderous.

"People die from either their own fault or because of other's fault." The words come slow and deliberate, each one pressed down with intention, trying to wake something in me.

Fear.

Panic.

The desperate animal need to survive. Trying to make this game of dragging more interesting.

But they died the moment I stepped onto this cliff.

"Mostly, they die naturally."

The person raises a brow.

I nod and take a step back. A stone loosens from the edge behind my heel and tumbles backward, disappearing into the dark below, swallowed by the crashing waves without a sound.

"Some fear death, some don't."

The person takes a step forward and smirks. "Both are expected. What's the fun if only one exists?"

Now it's my turn to smirk. But the person's doesn't falter either.

"Some failures try to put fear even when they know they are useless."

The smirk disappears. The person's hands clench into fists.

Towering over me now, looking down with that same murderous look in the black orbs but now there are glints of something else swimming in that darkness.

Guilt.

Hurt.

Pain.

But it gets swallowed quickly, pulled under like everything else, drowned in ink before it can surface long enough to matter.

Then a sharp pain pierces through my body and I feel warm liquid seeping into my clothes. The pain is mind numbing but I still hold the thin string of control. Don't letting it go. Not yet.

"Provoking isn't good for life, dear Eva. That too when death is fucking standing in front of you."

Something twists inside and more unbearable pain runs through every nerve. I fight the urge to curl into myself.

"Truths don't change, you dear trash." The person grabs my shoulder and leans down, whispering against my ear. "Everyone wants love but only few get their wish fulfilled."

The twist happens again and the warmth turns cold, spreading outward like ink dropped into water. Slow. Unstoppable.

"People who never even wanted love, they also get it and it changes few and for others, it becomes the reason of their destruction."

Another step. The pain intensifies.

"After her, I gave you her place. You're the only one who looked and gave while taking double. I never minded that. But warnings are given for a reason. Many ignores them."

The person falls silent.

The ocean below fills it.

"Like you did. And you're standing on the edge of your death."

I laugh even though there’s nothing really to laugh about. Sounding maniac.

"Everyone gets to know that not everything that looks is the ultimate truth. They have another side to look at, but they don't do that. Instead, they even totally forget about that."

I let the weight of my words settle very heavily between us. "Like you."

The person scoffs. "Like me? How about you glance at yourself first?" The tone is mocking but something underneath it is beginning to crack.

Just like I thought.

"Have you listened carefully?"

The black eyes bloom with confusion and then slowly, quietly, with a helplessness the person cannot hide— curiosity.

Everything falls silent.

Even the wind pauses.

I don't think I can stay much longer.

I take another step back. The person's eyes are still on me but they aren't really looking at me anymore.

They are lost somewhere inside the tangle of words and lies and truths mixed together so thoroughly that not even the person who spoke them can separate them now.

"Some regret and some leave others to regret for it."

I say and smile as another tear slides down because of the pain I haven't named out loud. Those black eyes snap out of their trance and focus on me sharply and clearly and then —

They widen.

The realization crashes into the black orbs so hard it tumbles with the murderous look already living there, waves against rock, and for just a moment the two exist together in those eyes.

Destruction and devastation wearing the same face.

But it's late.

It was always going to be late.

The person takes a step toward me and I lash the last move.

"I would love to see you cry your whole life when you won't find what you're finding for."

Anger blackens the eyes again. The person steps forward directly, closing the last distance between us. "You've nothing."

I chuckle.

Right. I don't have anything. But sometimes instinct can make you remember what you're doing and why you started.

"I'd have loved to kill her with my own hands if I could. It'd have been fun watching you wail."

I smirk because I know exactly which nerve that hit and how hard.

The person’s hand grabs my shoulder.

"You want to kill her? Fine, die yourself to find out how it really feels, you fucker."

And then the person pushes me.

Hard.

Backward.

And I tumble off the cliff.

The black orbs keep watching my fall from above, pain and anger burning together in their wake, and I don't look away from them as I go down.

I hold their gaze until the dark swallows the distance between us and the face above becomes small and far and then nothing at all.

I close my eyes.

And sigh.

The wind tears past me on the way down, loud and rushing and alive, and I feel nothing but the strange, hollow peace in my being.

Why do people fear death? Everyone has a reason for it.

I don't. So I don’t even look at fear.

And instead of sadness or fear or the desperate clawing of a soul that isn't ready... I feel only calmness washing over me like the ocean I'm about to meet. Cold and complete and which will give me the peace I craved.

My body meets the rocks below and the bones answer back with a sound like the ocean finally winning.

It's time for sleep again.

Goodnight.

Words:- 2.2k

heir gaze until the dark swallows the distance between us and the face above becomes small and far and then nothing at all.

I close my eyes.

And sigh.

The wind tears past me on the way down, loud and rushing and alive, and I feel nothing but the strange, hollow peace in my being.

Why do people fear death? Everyone has a reason for it.

I don't. So I don’t even look at fear.

And instead of sadness or fear or the desperate clawing of a soul that isn't ready... I feel only calmness washing over me like the ocean I'm about to meet. Cold and complete and which will give me the peace I craved.

My body meets the rocks below and the bones answer back with a sound like the ocean finally winning.

It's time for sleep again.

Goodnight.

Words:- 2.2k