Voleur de Mon Coeur
Chapter IV
Into The Depths Of The Ocean
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the light was spoken.
Once By The Ocean
By-Robert Frost
"What's been on yer mind, Jackie? Yer've been distant lately."
Jack looked up at Givvins. "I have to get out of here." a touch of desperation possessed his voice. "I cannot take this confinement any longer."
"Why the suddn' restlessness?"
The previous night's haunting visions began to inhabit the tortured chambers of Jack's mind and he sighed. "My mind's beginnin' to turn on me."
Givvins nodded, "Aye. I've been through that."
"and…how did you overcome it?"
Givvins smiled slightly, "I had to confront it…eventually, although," he looked down, "We never truly overcome it, we only become numb; desensitized."
Jack shook his head, "but you see, I'm afraid if I face it, then i-it will take me over."
Givvins rose from the cot he had been lying upon and walked over to take a seat beside the troubled lad.
"Yer suddenly tortured, Jack. Why is that?"
Jack sighed and ran a grimy hand through his mangled strands. "The prison guard," he looked up at Givvins, anguish within his cerulean gaze, "the one I stole the wallet from. Well, h-he pardoned me."
Benjamin Givvins furrowed his brows, "he pardoned yer?"
Jack let his head rest on the wall behind him. "Yes," he sighed, "he did not turn me in."
"Why I wonder?"
Jack shook his head, "he thinks I has a chance to be redeemed."
Givvins suddenly broke into hearty laughter. "Redeemed! The Artful Dodger?! Redeemed! Ha! That is humorous."
Jack tried to find the will within him to laugh, but his internal turmoil prevented him from indulging in any such amusement.
"Come on, Dodge my boy,' Givvins said, his voice laced with a smile, "break off it."
"Everything was so much simpler when I was younger." Dodger pondered aloud.
Givvins nodded, "thing always are."
Jack closed his eyes. "I feel, Givvins," he sighed, "I feel and I hate it!"
"Push it away." Jack heard Givvins whisper in a nearly inaudible voice; The sound of it resounded within the Artful's suffering mind. "Seal all wounds of the past, destroy all sense of the soul.'
Jack felt an excruciating pull upon his heart at these words. These words which ordered him to abandon all of his unwanted emotions. Oh! How he wished he could obey.
"I can't," he whispered.
"try."
Jack hesitantly ventured into the darkest corners of his being, into he shadows where lingered all the ghosts of his hidden persona. Caged and screaming for release they begged for Jack to free his former heart, his past soul, his ancient mind.
Suddenly the haunting faces from his childhood, swarmed through his memory. Their eyes, lifeless, their voices whispering in unison. They hissed his name, they pleaded and begged.
Jack began to breathe heavily and he quickly opened his eyes, gritting his teeth. "I CAN'T!" he shouted.
Standing, he looked down at Givvins. "I'm never going to be rid of these phantoms; they linger upon my every footfall, relentlessly following, unabashedly waiting."
Givvins stood, "one day you will find the strength to do as I have done, and fool these specters."
Jack nodded doubtfully, "perhaps."
Then he began to pace about the cell. "On a brighter note," he said, in attempt to change the current conversation, "I have an idea for escape."
"Oh?" responded Givvins, "And what might that be?"
Jack came and sat beside the older man, "prison riot."
Givvins raised a grayed brow as Jack continued. "I just don't know how to put it into action."
Ben Givvins shook his head, evident doubt upon his features. "It's impossible, Lad."
"We outnumber the guard ten to one." Jack sated firmly.
Givvins eyed him incredulously. "Prisoners 'ave no idea 'ow to work together."
"If they had a stab at freedom they would."
"Jack!" Givvins exclaimed. "Yer meanin' that we lie to 'em? There's no way everyone 'as a chance at escapin'!"
Jack sighed, "I'm sure there's a way."
"The guard 'as guns, Jackie, we may 'ave more numbers, but they've got the weapons."
"There's strength in numbers."
"Jack," stated Givvins, "we are criminals, not soldiers, everything is about self-gain."
Jack looked away in frustration, defeat edging upon his heart. "Do you have a better idea?"
"No," replied Givvins. "But I've tried to everything." He suddenly laughed, "what do yer think I've been doin' for the past 50 years?!"
Jack shook his head and sighed in despair. "Oh Givvins." he looked up at the man, "shall I ever get out of here?"
Givvins shrugged, "no tellin'"
Jack stood then resumed his pacing about the interior of the cell. His features portrayed that he was searching, but without hope of finding the answer.
He was growing more and more restless within each passing moment. He felt more confined than he had in the past 10 years of his imprisonment.
How long could he last? Before his mind drove itself insane?
The hours dragged on mercilessly, and Jack finally rested his head upon the cold stone of the cellar floor in exhaustion but not defeat.
He continued to search his thoughts for the key that would unlock the door to his freedom; there had to be a way.
He fell asleep, still lost within his quest, and his dreams consisted of various trial and error attempts for escape.
Changing, however, his visions began to morph into images of darkness.
He saw a shadow moving through the blackest of nights, then saw this form open a door, which exposed the brilliance of the fairest of stones. Its shimmer was more glorious than the very moon within the midnight sky.
Then, upon reaching out a hand, the figure swiped the gem and turned to reveal the face of he, Jack Dawkins. There was a sinister glint within his eyes, as he took a step forward.
Suddenly, he halted, as he beheld an approaching aura of light. Horror overtook him and, after unsheathing a dagger, he reached up and thrust the blade into his own heart; the gem fell to the concrete beneath his swaying feet.
It was no longer of pure crystal, but had transformed into the darkest onyx, with no beauty of any sort. Its blackened glare faced his fallen form, which writhed and twisted in agony.
Through the haze of the Artful's vision, the strange light neared, and before all was dark, he found himself staring into the depths of the ocean.
Waking, Jack quickly rose, his eyes filled with frustration. Sweat had broken across his features and his heart had not yet slowed.
What could such a dream have meant? Why had his heart warmed to that nearing light, and those orbs of the sea?
The visions of those orbs, were what stuck most within his mind; He saw all the qualities of the ocean within them.
He stood and walked over to the cellar door, and, gripping the bars he smiled at the feel of the cold steel upon his hands.
It was in these moments, while all others slumbered, that he felt most vulnerable.
Most weakness.
(Happy New Years Everyone!!!)