At The Precipice by Beatrisu

At The Precipise

Not for the faint of heart, or for those who find suicide disturbing!

 At The Precipice

I stand on the precipice, watching the churning flames beneath while agony is coursing up both my arms. Tears seem to be evaporating faster than they can fall from my eyes, and there is a great pain in my chest like someone clawing at my heart, trying to wrench it from its cavity.

No more. I will handle this agony no longer – the hatred, the pain of the loss I have felt. My brothers are all gone. Maglor is alive, somewhere, yes, but he wanted to betray our Oath – that cursed Oath! My laughter bubbles from my chest like a lament for my sins, and my folly. I do not know what hurts more – the Silmaril scorching my hand, or the knowledge that I brought so much evil and destruction upon peoples that did not deserve it. I have committed the greatest sin – I have slain my own kin, killed them without thought to their families – only for the gain of my own. And yet we left our mother behind, and we all ended up dead for nothing.

Without a backward glance, I take the final step, Silmaril in hand, and I plummet into my release. The pain stops, even as flames the same color as my hair lick my body, utterly destroying me.

Chapter End Notes

As stated before, constructive criticism is always appreciated. This is merely my take on the suicide of Maedhros.