[These are the remains of what looks to have been an old journal at some point. The frayed leather cover is in complete disrepair, and the spine is so loose that the pages are beginning to fall out.]
Mood Music:
???
I had the same dream again, or perhaps it isn’t a dream, but some kind of distant memory. Yet I can’t seem to remember. It clings to the back of my mind, clawing; gnawing, taunting me. Something forbidden, something I wish to forget but somehow can't. I know it well enough, like the back of my hand. Every tiny fraction of detail, from the salt in the air, the taste of iron in my mouth, to the bitter chill in the air.
I wake upon a stormy shore someplace I might have once upon a time call home. I lie naked on my back in the sand. All I can feel is the rain caressing my fragile body. I’m so cold to the point where I can no longer move my aching bones. A sudden chill rushes up my spine as a colossal wave comes crashing down upon my broken form, crushing me beneath the waves. Washing me away into the infinite depths of the blackened sea, swallowing me whole. The pain is too great to even resist, so I simply succumb to the waters. I’m choking, drowning, at peace.
Suddenly I’m back in my bed, drenched in salt...
[Most of the page looks to have been soiled by water, rain, or perhaps tears.]