Guilt

Although distracted briefly, David had continued with his task. How easy is it to get distracted as you are deliberately approaching the end of your life? Everything becomes more intense, the moments longer, the colours brighter. Perhaps it is the world pleading for you to turn back. One more gold and red sunset may spark the desire to see more, a beautiful laugh offers possibilities of friendship or love, a smell of flowers bringing back powerful memories of a better past.

He had been tempted, but David was not willing to remain within the boundaries of his lifetime. He had ignored the green fields, the towering trees, the sweet country smells, the evening birdsong. If he was to enjoy life he had to be accepted by the people who had judged him.

His last human contact had been a few short minutes ago, but he was now invisible to the boy that had crossed his path. He was no longer visible to the world. He was hidden by the cold and dark water swirling all around him, pushing him downstream, while powerful currents were holding him beneath the surface. Occasionally his legs or his arms, no longer under his control, would strike a boulder or briefly brush through weeds on the bottom.

He opened his eyes once, just as he wanted to open his mouth to let the water fill his lungs, to get it all over with. His reflexes could not allow him this release.

The murky water was the last thing David saw as he closed his eyes for the last time. His dying body became more distressed, desperately needing oxygen, yet fighting not to try to draw a breath. His lungs were burning, and once a leg kicked out involuntarily to try to push him towards the surface. His hands and feet were becoming numb, and he felt a dull ache building to a tight pain around his heart. It was beating too quickly, trying to get the blood, carrying its miserly load of oxygen, all around the body at once.

David's mind remained clear though, thinking constantly of another young boy, in another life it seemed.

He had enjoyed that pleasurable encounter, but had lived to regret it. Even after fifteen years spent paying for his crime, no one would forgive him. Worst of all, he could not forgive himself.

Death's approach found him relaxed and more at ease with himself than he had been for some time. He had atoned in some small way for his terrible mistake by giving his remaining money to another boy, during his final interaction with the world, to at least improve his life.

He had to die though, simply because he couldn't face living. His mouth opened and the water swirled in. There was no more pain, his brain realised the futility of trying to feel anything. His consciousness faded and his last thought was of the fear in the boy's eyes when he grabbed his wrist. Exactly like the last time.