It is dark, in the deeps, like the dark of the sky had come down into the water itself. In fact, it is too dark to see anything; you can only feel how far the dark stretches: a welcoming void.
...But you haven't found anything yet, and your lungs are starting to strain.
It's hard to drown yourself, even intentionally. Every instinct of the body fights against it.
...But you hold yourself under, and you let the water fill your lungs as you submerge yourself completely.
It seems as though the water reflects the void not just on the surface but underneath, for it is dark, too dark to see anything—but there is not need to be afraid, for here the void is right, it is warm, it is good—and though it looked to only be a pond it's so, so much deeper than that, and you find yourself like a weight, sinking
Re: 2/2
...But you haven't found anything yet, and your lungs are starting to strain.
Re: 2/2
Re: 2/2
...But you hold yourself under, and you let the water fill your lungs as you submerge yourself completely.
It seems as though the water reflects the void not just on the surface but underneath, for it is dark, too dark to see anything—but there is not need to be afraid, for here the void is right, it is warm, it is good—and though it looked to only be a pond it's so, so much deeper than that, and you find yourself like a weight, sinking
down, and
down, and
down.
You emerge from the water to a starry sky.