Final Hours:

The days turned to weeks and I went about my daily life. Still I felt like there was a gap, a missing piece of my heart, a piece that had been wrenched away the day Odysseus left my shores. I felt no joy in the world.

Aurora shining her gentle morning rays left me with no hope, and Poseidon and his gentle waves gave me no comfort. I was alone in the world, suffering at the fate of men. I realized how my mother had come to her downfall. A woman's heart is a fragile thing, around which a wall must be built.

I had let a man break down my wall of stone, same as my mother had. Slowly, one morning I walked to where I had buried my mother. I had planted a cypress tree over my mother's grave, in honor of her early years as a nymph. The tree had grown strong and tall, its grey branches bending forward towards the ground as though growing towards my mother.

A small grey rock was place besides her grave, and I sat upon it as I had when I was still young and facing the world by my self.

"Mother, what have I done?" I whispered quietly. Unbidden tears began to roll down my pale cheeks and I hugged my knees closer to my body, once again a 13 year old girl. So much of my childhood had been lost, my carefree years, my innocence and my mother.

I remained this way for most of the day, until the fiery colors of the sunset began to creep across the sky, darkening the island. I returned home, and retreated to my bed, trying to forget about all the animals I had walked past. The animals that used to be men.

Had I really done anything to protect myself? I had grown cold and hard before Odysseus. He made my heart melt and now look where I was. Yet still, had I not loved him, would my life be any worse.

Celene brought her silver chariot across the sky, the moonbeams shining upon my hair and face. I pursed my lips and stood, my decision made. I should not live like this, I could not live like this. Love had torn my mother from me, and I felt love should do the same for me.

I opened the top drawer of my bureau, and seven knives of different sizes glittered at me in the faint moonlight. I had not lit any lamps and planned on leaving the palace dark and alone. I caressed the daggers gently, before closing the drawer. I would not die the way my mother did. I would leave no blood.

Swiftly I grabbed my hunting bow, the one I had when I met Lysander, the king of Crete. King perhaps he was, but monster within. The hunting bow had not been used since that day, and traces of blood could still be seen stained on its surface. The blood of animals and the blood of me.

The beaches were silvery in the light, and my feet sunk slightly in the wet sand. I padded towards the surf, the rolling waves gentle and consistent. Gripping the bow in my hand I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, my eyes closed I walked forward into the tumbling surf, and it was there I stayed.

Depressing, I know. Short too, but the whole story is now complete! Yippee! hope you enjoyed it!