Chapter eight

ELENA’S POV

Hands.

Several pairs of hands seem to be driving me under. I raise my head to catch a break but I only get less than a second before I'm dunked back under.

It's not water. It's black, inky, and without substance. It's not water. I had no idea what it was but I couldn't breathe.

I wanted a break really, I was suffering out there in the world and yet now even in death, it seems I couldn't catch a break. Fuck the Gods. Fuck this shit, I'm tired of fighting.

So, so tired.

Flashes of my family passed through my eyes. My mother, my sister, and my brothers. My father with his never-ending frown of disapproval as if being alive was my fault. Hell, even being dead wasn't so much better. I guess maybe this is how death is supposed to feel.

Shame on me I guess.

I could hear beeping, like monitors beeping...kind of like in a hospital. It felt like someone was here watching me. My body was ready to get back to... somewhere I guess but my mind was shielding me, trying to protect me