Anguish Unending

He walks into the sounds of moving water. Gentle waterfalls cascade into a peaceful pond inside a high-ceilinged stone room, spreading ripples across its surface. The boy walks across the mossy stonework floor to the pool's edge. The room is like a small tropical paradise – garlands of green hang along the walls, and flowers add splashes of color throughout the space. Condensation gathers on the stones, dripping peacefully.

Looking down into the clear water, he can see kelp, seaweed, and more moss down below, waving gently in the currents. A few shells are scattered along the pool's sandy floor, and bright anemones stand out amongst the various shades of green. An island stands in the middle of the pool, soft and verdant.

A flash of cerulean scales in the water catches his eye. He crouches down as he watches the graceful form dancing through the water, around and around that center island. She turns in somersaults and figure eights. She never stops swimming. His mother, the mermaid, a picture of grace and beauty. He is fascinated.

The empath reaches out and touches her consciousness. She continues moving, seemingly unaware, but he is knocked backwards.

---

I am a monster.

He is instantly engulged in labyrinth waves of blood-red guilt and shame. He opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out – instead, failure rushes into the open cavity to choke him.

I am bad. Bad. Bad. Stay away. I will ruin you, just like I ruined him. Just like I ruined all of them. They suffer because of ME.

He thrashes, tries to protest. Self-hatred – her self-hatred – gags him, binds him to the floor. Help. No. Help. Murder taints this place. Nothing in here is whole. Disjointed and broken stigma overwhelms his vision.

Disgusting. I shouldn't be allowed to live.

He can't breathe. The sheer intensity of this repulsion, this horror, is suffocating. A deafening bang tears through his senses. A gunshot. The panic around him shakes and shudders. He gasps for air. He has to escape. Her own mind is begging for release as well.

CHANGE ME INTO SOMEONE ELSE! ERASE ALL OF THIS SO I CAN'T HURT ANYONE ANYMORE!

Guilt. Shame. Failure. Hatred. Murder. Horror. Panic. Help. Get out. Make it stop. Make it stop!

Ambrose collapses inward, and finally escapes.

---

He lays on the stone floor beside the pool for a time, shaking. When he has regained his composure somewhat, he picks himself up and gets to his feet.

It's too much. He has never experienced such crushing weight in his life, and it threatens to strangle him. With one last glance at the form in the water, he retreats, tears stinging in his eyes.

This must be what it feels like to be doomed.