I will honestly say that I never played the game, even if I want with all my heart to experience the coolness of the chills it gives if you play on your own. Epic is the only way to describe it. Please enjoy in joy ^^ (100-confessions competition with the team Remedy Darkness, with the prompt Drowning)

Warnings: Contains death and suffering.

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of the epicness of Amnesia: The Dark Descent. Frictional Games has the rights.

"I didn't do it! Why should I do it? They were my kids!" My screams were ignored by the guards, their haunting groans and grunts not even a little agonized by my struggles. I knew I could do nothing. They were stronger than I, if not slower. But they had grasped me, and I had come to know that they would be my death. I had seen too many prisoners disappear.

"And where is your proof," a man asked, looking at me with cold, golden eyes behind long strands of brown hair. The tears made my loose, blonde bangs stick to my cheeks, but I could see no regret or pity in his eyes. I wished that he would pity me, that he would find it in his cold, murdering heart to save me. I stopped my struggle for a second, new tears adding to the river.

"I-" I began, while being dragged on by the two hideous servants. A sudden anger came to me, fusing with my helplessness to become an unstable cocktail, and I began my struggle once again. "How am I supposed to prove anything in this place?" My scream echoed in the cold hall as I lashed out at him, my attempts to harm the one whose pity I had just wished for in vain. The sound of my own voice in the hallway, so loud and desperate, made me flinch in fear.

The way he looked at me only showed new disgust, but I did not attempt to attack him again. I could do nothing, and even if his eyes made me hate him and want him to suffer as he would make me suffer, I just got back to my struggle against the guards. My innocence was not something he cared about, he just wanted someone to punish.

The fact that I knew I was innocent only made everything worse. I had just sent them playing at the stream, my two lovely girls. I wanted them away while I made the bread that I was going to sell. They were noisy, and I could not bear their childness right then. Five and eight years, were they. They played not more than a few hundred meters away from me, in sight of the front door, but when I was done by the oven, they were nowhere in sight.

The mere sight of their pale, grey skin and their blue lips sent shivers down my spine. How their beautiful, brown eyes stared into the sky without the sparkle of light you always had been able to find in them. Their dresses, drifting around them in the water like the wings of a butterfly. Even if they annoyed me at my stressed days, and I could think them as merely more mouths to feed in hard times, I would not have ended up drowning my beautiful, lovely girls… Right?

They had claimed so for all the while I had been here. I think they were wrong, but what if they were not? What if I did do it?

I got so cold all of a sudden, and I could not struggle anymore. My eyes drifted, searched for something telling me that it was not my fault. That I had not done it. The security was found not in the walls around me, or the roughness of the guard. I settled my eyes on the face of the man who I knew was going to be my death and the face showed the coldness and disgust of a murderer. In all my days, no matter how little money I held in my pocket, that look had never been on my face when I stared into a mirror.

I was innocent. No matter what they said, I was innocent.

I began my struggle again as we walked some stairs. The air around me was becoming moist, and my feet occasionally stepped into a pool of what I was begging to be water. I was forced up a ladder, every step on it making its rusty metal cringe. I had never been in that part of the castle, but on the other hand, I had not really seen anything other than the four walls of my cell.

We walked over a bridge. I had struggled for so long that my body no longer was able to resist them, and as we continued our way, my struggle ceased slowly. This seemed to worry the man for a moment, but when I stared at him with anger and hate, he seemed pleased. "Sedate her," he said, and new devastating fear made my body move, my arms try to pry the clam hands off me, my feet kicking out at the legs of the guards.

But it was in vain. The two beings continued their actions as though I was already limp in their arms, only slightly slowed in their actions by my flying limps. A needle pierced my skin, and slowly, the world turned black. The next thing I knew, I laid on the hard, moist stone-floor in what I thought was a big room with no ceiling. Above me on the wall of the room was the man who had brought me here.

I could not make out his features in the darkness, but the hair had to be his. I tried to stand, the sound of a metal scraping against stone informing me that a chain had been attached to my one leg, and its weight made it hard for me to move around. My movement seemed to make him aware of my consciousness, and he moved to the corner of the room above.

He said nothing. He simply turned some kind of wheel, and water suddenly fell into the floor beside me from a pipe in a wall. That was when I realized it was like a giant bathtub, slowly filling with water. A basin that had seen liquid many times. And that was also when I realized this was going to be my death.

It felt like my feelings stopped for a second, along with my heart. The panic was filling me, controlling my actions while my sanity was pushed back. I threw myself towards the walls, falling as my chained foot could move no longer. My outstretched hand slammed against the wall, and my head flew right down at the floor, my nose filling with water when it tried to breathe. I began coughing hard, the panic and stress still filling me.

I turned around and threw both hands at the chain around my ankle. I slammed my hands against it, trying to find a way to get it off my body, as it was that which made my certain death was. I kicked out, slamming the foot to the ground, the water splashing around me. It was getting higher far too fast, and I reacted as fast as though it was suddenly boiling, standing when I no longer could sit without getting soaked to my navel. All the while I screamed at my murderer, telling him I had done nothing.

I tried to reach the walls, as if it would help me getting out of there. It was hard to move in the water, as it was slowing my movement and felt too heavy. My ankle, hands and eyebrow bled, my slightly swollen nose had hard time breathing, and the sight of the red liquid made my panic even worse. I could do nothing else than trying to make the chain cut off my foot by moving around.

Time passed too fast, and it felt like minutes before my shoulders were covered and was reaching up around my neck. I knew I was going to drown now. I slashed out at the water and lost balance, my head falling underneath the water. I flared my arms like wings, trying to get above the water. I kicked out my feet to get upwards, but after a long struggle, when I finally got my head over the water again, the water had already reached my mouth.

I was already coughing, and when I gasped for air, more water reached my lungs. From then, it felt like hundreds of years but was probably only a second that I closed my eyes for the last time, my murderer the last thing I saw as my body suddenly began to sink.