Where The End Begins
Where The End Begins
Written By Jiya
Author Note : This is my first attempt at writing a story in English. As I am not experienced in the language, I welcome any corrections or constructive feedback. Your suggestions are sincerely appreciated.
Chapter One
Even the river refused to take her into its embrace.
Elene thought bitterly that it had been so long since she felt warmth, that she had grown desperate enough to end her own life but she couldn’t do that either. And who was responsible for it? Her own damn self.
She was tired of this life, so tired that she wanted someone to hold her and tell her that what she did was wrong… but that she was forgiven now. But that was only her own thinking, her yearning.
So she came toward the tranquil river, hoping to feel something.
It was evening. The sky had softened into a warm hue, casting its fading light over the water, making it look fragile. The tranquility beckoned her, calling to her. So she stepped into the river without hesitation.
The hem of her dress gained weight at the touch of water. The cold climbed her calves, then her knees, then her thighs but she did not flinch. Did not look back. There was no one to call for her.
The current tugged at her gently, as if even the tide was asking her to reconsider. But Elene kept walking until the water reached her ribs, her shoulders, her throat.
She kept her eyes open. Then she exhaled, as if even that act had become a burden as if her eyes no longer wished to witness this insanity. And she let herself sink. The river closed over her head.
All sounds dissolved. Her surroundings dimmed. The light fractured. Only the roar of water filled her mind. Her hair drifted around her like ink in clear water.
For a moment just one fleeting, treacherous moment she believed it might work. That the water would accept her and her life would cease. Her lungs burned. Her body started convulsing.
And then the river refused to acknowledge her presence. It thrust her violently upward and hurled her onto the shore.
She laughed like a maniac, tears falling from her eyes, despair evident in her brown gaze. Her heart did not stop. It was still beating with stubborn life, and she was so tired that she did not even feel hatred for herself anymore.
Instead of trying again, she stood up without looking at the river. She wasn’t even accepted by the water.
In a daze, she remained there for a long while, her back to the river. Water streamed from her sleeves, her wet hair clinging to her face. The sky slowly dimmed, its colors fading as the brightness hid behind the coming darkness.
Then she saw the first star appear. It reminded her of a child she had once longed to hold but no longer could. Like something she had already lost years ago. Those were memories she could only carry in her heart and never touch again.
So she whispered to herself, too softly for the world to hear, “Will these memories ever fade from my mind? They are so vivid… like a punishment given to me.”
But no one answered her. The river moved on without replying.
The second time, she tried fire.
She couldn’t believe that she could not die. So instead of water, she chose fire, not a graceful way to leave this world, but in the face of death, grace becomes a sham.
She entered an abandoned cottage that was already in poor condition and set it alight. The flames quickly took control and devoured the structure with full intensity. They swallowed everything in their wake. The air turned feral.
Elene stood at the center of the roaring fire and rising heat. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the smoke. The flames licked at her skin. Her skin reddened, but the furious fire could not bite into her flesh. It only danced around her.
Her dress blackened but did not burn. Smoke filled the room, yet her lungs remained clear. When the roof finally collapsed, so did her will. She stood among the ashes, completely untouched.
And then she understood. Every attempt would meet the same end. Because she had done wrong. She had used something forbidden, something she should never have touched to save her daughter’s life. She had used a forbidden spell.
And with it, she had damned herself for eternity.
Years had passed, and Elene had forgotten to count them. Time no longer behaved as it once had for her. The smile in her eyes had vanished.
Time slipped through her fingers without leaving its marks. Her reflection remained unchanged. Her hands did not have the privilege of wrinkling. Her hair did not turn silver.
But the world around her changed completely. And that change did not include her, at least not her outer appearance.
Her inner self would scream every now and then, just enough to keep her sane. And when that turmoil showed on her face, people looked at her differently.
Elene began to feel the change when she noticed the gazes of people upon her. And those gazes were not identical. Some looked at her with greed, some with sympathy, some with disgust, some with envy. It startled her.
She had not thought about her curse in so long that she had forgotten the next part of her punishment. It frightened her.
Once, a merchant saw her and fell to his knees in the market square, laughing one moment and slipping into a daze the next, as though he had found treasure buried in plain sight. He reached for her hands with trembling fingers.
“Gold,” he whispered. “You’re made of gold.”
Elene looked down at herself. She saw only her skin, nothing extraordinary.
The man would not leave her. She did not even remember how she ran from there, or how she escaped the man who was hell-bent on taking her with him. It did not stop there.
When the merchant finally fell behind, she sighed in relief but then a grieving man followed her for three streets, calling a name that was not hers. His voice cracked with hope so raw it felt like violence.
“Don’t leave me again,” he begged. She had never seen him before. And that was when she understood something.
She would not be Elene anymore. Her identity and her name would only be known to her and to no one else.
To a hungry child, she was a warm loaf of bread. To a soldier, she was victory. To a lonely widow, she was youth restored.
They never saw her. What they saw was themselves. Their wanting wrapped around her like a second skin. And she could not peel it away.
Elene wore a robe over her clothes from then on. She learned to live at the edges of towns, to pass through without lingering. To keep them from recognizing her, she spoke very little, so her voice would not be remembered. She would not stay in any place for more than a year. It was difficult, but it was the only way for her.
Sometimes, she would stand outside a house and watch a window lit from within. She would sense the warmth of the lives unfolding in their own small world. They had the privilege to be loved, to be cherished. She watched them with longing in her heart, like one watches rain through glass. She, too, had once stood in such light.
She remembered the weight of her daughter, Ella, in her arms. She had once lived with her family. Her husband was a farmer and a loving man. They had two children. Until one day, a pandemic plagued the whole village.
Day by day, people were dying. On the face of death, everyone was an equal child or old man, male or female. All were losing their lives to this strange disease they had no control over. It took the life of her husband and one daughter right before her eyes. And she too was losing the last one, Elene knew it.
She remembered clearly how she would pray every day in her desperation. One day, she visited an old shrine situated outside their village. She stood before the altar silently, and then tears flowed uncontrollably. In her anguish, she shouted,
“I will give anything. Please… I don’t want to lose anymore. I have only one child left.”
Elene did not remember this part clearly, because a black fog had taken over the place. When she opened her eyes, a book lay right in front of her. She was not a woman of literature, but the book bore strange symbols, and she had some little knowledge of such things. She used that knowledge to save her daughter’s life.
Elene did not regret saving her daughter. She was glad when Ella’s fever broke. Ella was twelve at that time. But when she woke, she could not remember her. According to her, all members of her family had died.
A child’s laughter pulled Elene out of her memories. She smiled ruefully and left that place.
Decades later, she stood again at the river’s edge. This river lay close to her hometown. It had been a witness to her grief the first time she felt it, and now she was here again. A strange feeling had drawn her back to this place.
The water was still indifferent to her. She didn’t know what came over her when she spoke to the endless water.
“I am still here,” she whispered. And, like always, the water remained silent.
“I know what I am waiting for. I am not clueless like the first time I came here. I am fully aware of the curse placed upon me… but still, it is so hard to wait for your own death.” Elene sighed. She turned back.
A little distance away, someone was standing. Then she heard another woman call out,
“Ella, come quickly. We have to go home, it’s getting late.”
Elene’s breath stuttered in her throat. When the girl turned, she smiled. And when Elene saw her, she felt as though her world had shattered.
She was exactly like her daughter.
To Be Continued…..
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