It swept him off his feet like a crashing, freezing wave from the ocean.

Get up dumbass.

His fingers found the back of his head as he rubbed the lump. Sand stuck coarsely to his skin.

Why are there so many rocks everywhere?

He pushed himself up, crossing his legs in front of himself. No one had seen him fall, if they had, they probably would have been laughing.

Guess that’s what I get for thinking that.

As if the fall was directly related to what he thought, or maybe it was? A physical juxtaposition for his hypocrisy. It wasn’t a good thought, in fact, there was something so wrong about it, but that is what we want right? The wrong things?

It’s not like I’d ever do it… what’s the harm in thinking?

It’s the thrill, the adrenaline rush ignited by what is taboo. Our mind is a virtual playground where we pretend we are God.

He stood up slowly, snatching a rock off the ground, took three steps towards the water and pulled his arm back like a dancer preparing to twirl.

I’m in control.

He threw his arm forward, releasing the rock, low and in line with the water. It skipped four times before dropping with a kerplunk.

The rock sank quickly to the bottom and the inevitable warning was lost to the foggy water as he turned and walked away.

He felt invincible, totally in control.

I am the Master of my fate, I am the Captain of my soul.

In this moment, it was, until it was not. The warnings are always blatant because they’re internal. A moderate alarm clock of our soul for the ominous curtain call of truth.

The most simple explanation is, don’t be stupid, and the most obvious response is to ignore it.

If I can play God, why not?

He stopped and tilted his head back as a memory echoed.

What is in your mind, will also be in your heart.

He sunk his hands deep into his pockets as if to say no, I made up my mind.

I am in control.

He looked forward and smiled. It was a charming smile, the kind that brightens a room, the irresistible kind. He stepped forward, his body shook.

What?

Pain. Searing pain. His hand slapped against his chest, his fingers sinking into his rotting flesh. The confusion was evident in his face as he jerked his hand back frantically and looked at it.

Dark, dark red blood dripped down his hand.

Everything spun around him as it began to break apart. Piece by piece things crumbled. This time, the inevitable warning was not lost with a sinking rock.

He looked at his chest. Blackness oozed from his left breast.

The darkness he lived finally came for him. What was once inside, was now outside, visible for all to see.

He was face to face with that juxtaposition.

The truth had finally come for him, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

He dropped to his knees. His skin began to fall away, each flake floating then turning to ash.

There were no thoughts this time, no egotistical rebuttal.

The desires of his heart – which had once given him so much life – had finally come to mercilessly destroy him.