The Lady by the Water-by Jessica Seiter (2017-revised, 10/2020)
She climbed to the top of the ledge every morning tearing open old wounds from the days before while fresh cuts bloomed. The red streaks decorated her skin. The rocks were wet under her bare feet and the constant spray kept her damp. The ledge was the highest point in the village. The scattered sounds below were almost non-existent against the ocean. All she could see was gray water and the white peaks of foam when it hit the rocks below.
He was lost in the water. The ocean hadn’t settled in the weeks he’d been gone. The people below watched her climb everyday. They ate breakfast when she reached the top and tumbled into their beds when she climbed back down.
She wanted to untangle her mind. Things were hidden in dark corners and when she tried to pull them into the light they scurried away…retreating in fear? In spite? Her first climb produced a gash that bled for days. The pain was excruciating and refreshing. She watched her blood, thick and strong march down her leg and in that moment she knew all she needed was to feel something real. A solid place she could lay all of her thoughts as she found them, one by one.
One morning he whispered to her. When she closed her eyes she felt his chapped lips snag her neck, brush her mouth. She could taste the salt and smell his breath and it turned her stomach. She bared her teeth and growled at the darkening sky. The wind slapped her in retaliation. She rubbed her cheek. Her stomach rolled with acid-anger and she shrieked into the sky. A cleansing war-cry that bounced off the rocks around her. She spit off the ledge and the wind whipped at her again knocking her back. So she steadied herself, planting her feet, chipped rock digging into her flesh, “You wanted more-you left to find it and you failed!”
The sky screamed back at her. She rubbed her stomach, life jumped inside her and she sneered,
“You were so impatient.”
The rain came next, she opened her arms to the sky and bellowed into the gray,
“Now you want to give? HA!”
The people below watched her spin, mouth open catching the rain. The men below shook their heads and the women rushed to get their laundry.
The rain was crisp. She ran an arm across her mouth. Her hair was matted to her face. When she howled the rain turned to hail so she howled louder matching his ferociousness. The hail was relentless and so were her screams. Her throat went raw until the blood from a fresh cut on her forehead poured and coated the burning, staining her teeth pink. The copper taste of her own blood was comforting. She stumbled backwards and landed on a jutted out rock. Pulling up her skirts so the rain could wash away the blood and dirt from her legs she whispered,
“I never forgot how gentle you could be…”
She tossed a rock over the edge,
“I’m glad you’re dead.”
The rain stopped. The wind slowed to nothing and everything around her was still. She gathered her hair and rang it out. The only sound was the water hitting the rock she was perched on.
Silver Frog Productions 