I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. Those words flooded from her mouth, filled her brain. They always did. She never meant to do anything wrong. She never wanted to do anything bad. She hadn't wanted to be the cause of those deaths.
She'd simply wanted to go on a vacation, with a flight to get there. Halfway through the flight, lightning struck the plane, instantly killing most of them. The engine had cut out, the pilots were dead. Those that had survived the lightning were killed when the plane plummeted into the ocean, quickly sinking below, where no one but the fish saw, and the fish didn't care. Except for her. She survived, both. She was able to swim to a far away shore, without any real training or preparation. Now she trudges on along the shore, as she stares out at the sea. The watery grave of the entire flight. Except one. She was the sole survivor. And in her gut, she knew it was her who was meant to die. She was the one who should have been killed. Instead, they were all gone, and she walks alone.
She kicks at a rock angrily. She hadn't known anyone on the flight. And yet the sorrow was so great. She remembers when she had set fire to her house. It killed her mother, her father and her brother. But not her. She hadn't meant to. She'd simply thought the candle interesting, and had picked it up. She'd knocked over her father's beer can, but was mesmerized by the flame. Discovering the heat, she dropped it onto the carpet. Where her father's beer had been spilling out. The flame engulfed the living room in minutes, and she'd stood, watching the flames lick up all their possessions. By the time the family realized what was happening, it was too late. They were soon gone with their all their things. But not the girl. When the fire department had arrived, they found a little girl, clutching her teddy bear, standing outside, watching the flames devour her home.
She wanted to escape. She wanted to have died, in the flames, in the lightning, in the water. She didn't want to live now.
She turns into the forest, deciding to leave the shore behind.
He brother had been so kind. Her dearest older brother, always holding her up at parades, helping her with her homework, teaching her to climb trees and to throw a ball. He taught her to shoot a hockey stick, to play baseball, to build snow forts in the winter. Now he was just a memory, to be forgotten with the rest of the world.
Her mother, her loving mommy. She'd always tuck her in at night; make sure that her baby girl was happy. She was so trusting of everyone, so loving to all. Everyone who met her called her Mom. The girl was proud that the woman was truly her mother.
Her father had been kind and firm. He'd had strong hands, capable of lifting both his children as they giggled uncontrollably. He'd enjoy the occasional drink, never drinking enough to scare them. He would read them a bedtime story every night, his deep voice a soothing tone to fall asleep to. He hid the fact that he was not, in fact, her father. He treated her as his own, and pretended she was. The girl wonders if he misses her, up in the Heaven he believed so firmly in.
She walks sadly. And then, up ahead, the world just seems to drop off. She picks up speed, heading towards it. And when she comes to the edge, she doesn't stop. She launches herself off the end, embracing death. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. She whispers into the wind as she races to the ground.
Poseidon watches on helplessly as his daughter jumps off a cliff. He'd tried so hard to help her life. And he'd failed. His daughter was nearly at the ground now. It's not your fault baby girl. You never meant to. And it is I, who is sorry. I'm sorry, baby. He whispered back turning his head as she hit the ground. I'm sorry. He repeated.