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Lullabies and Adrenaline [Jan. 17th, 2009|01:15 pm]
The Warcraft Columnist



Eleanea sat in front of her large, ebony piano, staring blankly at the keys. The song she had finally perfected -- sweet, sad, lullaby-like, loving, soft -- rang in her ears. She closed her eyes, trying to block out any sound around her, though that didn't help; his face swam before her. 
    "I can't take it anymore," she whispered, opening her eyes. "I can't."  She rose in one swift, fluid moment. She had changed in the past few days. She wasn't happy -- no, hardly happy -- but she had pretended, because it was expected of her to get over it. But did one ever truly...get over it?  No. No, of course they didn't.
     Subconsciously had Eleanea written that lullaby for him. She didn't realize it until she had closed her eyes, when her heart felt constricted, when she finally knew that every note screamed her love for him, how much she missed him. She now refused to think of his name; everytime she did, the hole in her chest would burn and ache and make itself more than apparent. 
       She stood, frozen, in front of the window in her bedroom. Her blood was pounding in her ears, her thoughts shrieking as if they were in agony in her head. 
        I can't take it!
her mind screamed. I can't do this anymore! I need some relief...I need to get out of the situation all together. As much as I smile and try to make myself seem strong, I'm not! I need this to end. I want...No. I need to hear his velvet voice again. No matter what it takes, I will find him and hold him and tell him how much I love him. How much I missed him...If he doesn't want me anymore, fine, but he is going to listen to me. Hes' going to let me see him, hear him, touch him, kiss him, smell his aroma. 
       Suddenly, an idea hit her, square in the chest. She smiled faintly -- the first true smile in months -- and bounded down the steps into the living room, bursting out into the bright sunshine. If she couldn't have him with her...Well, she could at least her him speak to her. No matter what the tone was.

When Eleanea arrived at the steep cliff, she was unaware of where she had traveled to. All she knew was that the ocean was swirling beneath her, rain was pelting her face, and that she was going to hear him speak to her again.
    Her toes inched towards the edge of the cliff, and, suddenly, a voice filled her mind. It was as clear as if he'd been standing right next to her, whispering a warning in his silken voice.
     "Don't do this, Eleanea," he said angrily, frustrated. "You're being childish."
      Am I? she mused to herself, shaking her head. She got even closer to the ledge.
       "Ele, please." His voice was pleading, now. Shaking. "Please don't. For me. Please." She closed her eyes, tilting her head up to the sky. The wind whipped her hair around her face. She smiled and, walking to the very edge, plunged off into the ocean.
        "ELEANEA!" he shouted as she jumped. His voice rang in her ears as she fell, screaming. The screams weren't in fear, but in freedom. Adrenaline pumped excitedly through her veins, glad to be alive again. She did feel alive, for the first time. She felt completely and utterly free from everything, everyone. She was getting closer and closer to the swirling black water and, as she hit it, she smiled.
       She fell deep into the ocean. At first, she was fine, able to hold her breath easily. But as the seconds ticked by, her lungs became constricted, her throat closing.
       "Swim!" his voice begged. "Swim, Ele...Keep swimming." She tried. But she couldn't find the surface, and she didn't attempt to swim away from the rip tide. 
      Well, she thought in slight amusement. Dying isn't such an unpleasant experience...I rather enjoy the sound of the water. Besides, if the last words I hear are from him...Then, surely, it can't be so bad. 
      The mass of black was overwhelming, but she didn't mind. She was beginning to feel numb and light-headed, and the dying experience slowly eased in the uncomfortable department. 
      "Eleanea, no, don't die, don't die..." he said frantically. "Keep fighting. Find the surface, dearest, find it...Please find it!" She smiled slightly and, slowly, all was black, and the voice was silenced.

It felt like a rock was smashing against her back, and water flew out of her mouth. Was she dying, again? Because, this time, she didn't like it. The rock hit her again, and more salt water came out. Oh, no. This wasn't pleasant at all. 
   "C'mon," someone muttered next to her. "Get it all out..." Eleanea realized a rock wasn't hitting her, but a very strong hand. She came around long enough to peer up at Arisseda beating the water out of her, and a dim figure hovering beside her. Water continued to pour out of Eleanea's mouth and, before she knew it, her lungs seemed to be clear. She gasped for air, her breathing uneven. 
     "I heard him, Arisseda," she murmured faintly. "He was talking to me. He was protecting me, even if he wasn't there...I heard him." 
     "'Course you did, Ele," she cooed gently. "Go back to sleep, now. We're going home."
     "I heard him..." Eleanea flashed a brilliant smile and was, once again, unconscious.