|  I can hear them.
I have forgotten where I’m going. I have forgotten why I’m going but I know I am going. I leave it to my instincts to take me where I need to go; they are the one thing I trust yet at times even they fail me. I take each day as it comes; one hoof in front of the other, mile after mile, day after day. I lose track of time. I drift between this world and another. I become part of the air, merging and drifting. I am everywhere and yet I am nowhere. I forget who I am, I forget what I am, I forget everything but the silence that surrounds me. That’s when I hear them.
God I wish they’d stop.
Ocean surrounds me though I’m not sure when it happened. It is only the taste of salt water that brings me to my senses, a surge of water barging past my nostrils into my lungs. I try to rid it from my body but the force only drops my lower into the sea’s icy grip. My legs push hard but the waves push harder. As the blinding white fog of panic settles in, I have to wonder if this was my plan all along – if I am truly going anywhere but my own funeral.
They scream blood curdling terror. Or is that me?
A calmness descends. I accept my fate. Perhaps I should have accepted it years ago instead of this watery grave without a single creature to witness or mourn my passing. I always thought I’d go out on a high and with a bang – perhaps a bloody battle of honour. Many would grieve my death and tell stories of my great deeds. I should have died surrounded by loved ones, not here. Not alone.
They’re mocking me.
Stones slip beneath my hooves and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I pull myself free of the water heaving and spluttering, casting my gaze back from where I came in case she should drag me back once more. It’s now that I truly realise where I am, the place where my life began – or is this just death’s little trick. Is this really where I’ve headed all this time?
I stand on the shoreline gasping for breath, far from the falls that give this particular area its name and wondering what my next move should be. Silence falls and with it the dread starts to ragged and foreign to my own ears, “Gods help me” But maybe I’m beyond help.
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