Asphyxia.

A frightening omen is spreading furiously across the sky. It is a black storm cloud, warning all to take shelter before it unleashes its fury. Thunderclaps emphasize the magnitude of its rampage.

Below, a churning ocean is gathering momentum. It slashes furiously at the wicked boulders confining its outrage. No living being witnesses this except a solitary figure pacing calmly about the abandoned, rocky shore. This figure is Andromeda, swathed in a long, startling blue gown that not only matches her eyes, but matches the tempest.

The dark, mysterious depths of the ocean have always captivated Andromeda. The lulls and crests seem to beckon for her to join them. In her desolation, she often spans this coastline, seeking nothing but the companionship of the waves. The isolated stretch of beach is her haven; no one ever interrupts her, because no one cares to notice she is gone.

A seagull shrieks in the distance. Andromeda empathizes with its lonely, piercing cry. She understands how it feels to go unheard, to go through each day as a shadow. All shadows eventually fade away, she notices. With this in mind, Andromeda continues her peaceful stroll, hardly noticing the sharp rocks piercing the tender soles of her feet.

She resumes her suicidal contemplation. In her solitary state, no one will notice if she drifts away. Being carried away by the storm, she romanticizes, would be an intriguing way to go. And afterwards? So many people have their convictions about the elusive Afterlife. But Andromeda quickly dismisses this pondering- she has no interest in fantasizing about the extension of life, nor does she care. She only finds exhilaration at knowing that she'll escape this existence she so loathes.

She understands that death is inevitable, yet feels nothing but anticipation for her eventual end. Why? There is nothing worth living for. She is rotting away on the inside: suppressing her constant frustrations, drowning her outraged thoughts, tearing apart her magnitude of memories.

The bitter truth is that poor Andromeda is suffocating. She cannot live with herself. She cannot stand the amplitude of pressure she inflicts, her fear of failure, her fight against the inevitable tide. Disgust, repulsion, she cannot stand her willing contamination of so much purity and hope. At this, she tosses stones bitterly into the water, watching them ripple across the surface like tears splashing across her face.

In all, she is a vessel of broken dreams; a missile that has shot itself so high, only to result in a much farther fall. A dark mentality has ensnared her with hooks of ambition, leaving her to never be satisfied with the person she is.

The storm is getting nearer now. Streaks of brilliant light adorn the fuming sky. Waves are crashing even more desperately. Andromeda feels terrified, yet submits herself to nature's wrath. The ocean, she feels, is so much like her: turbulent, restless, vengeful.

The mighty crescendo of anticipation reaches a climax. Rain rages down towards the ground, thunderstorms dance in the heavens, lightning gleefully blinds awestruck eyes. The storm is here. The time has come.

And so she simply walks into the water. The waves are fighting against her, warning her to turn back. The cold current attempts to push her back to land, back to safety, but the exhilaration of this final crusade is overwhelming. Her back arches, her hands glide through the tranquil water. For a second, she is still, reveling in her last breadths of salty mist. Inhale, exhale.

Waves are lapping around her more furiously now. White foam caps the endless valleys of turquoise about her. The sky is as deep a grey as the resolute boulders framing the blue expanse. This is the only thing she will miss.

She ventures deeper into the current. Suddenly, her feet cannot reach the rocky shore. A vivid image of Anticleia flashes through her mind; Anticleia, who gave herself to the ocean in despair over the loss of her brave son. In a way, she and Anticleia are alike. They are giving up, resigning their fates in a cruel, heartless world. But this comparison is cut short as she sinks down into the water.

Her first instinct is one of trepidation. Tendrils of black hair are wrapping around her face, sliding around her throat, enveloping her existence in a veil of darkness. Her arms flail about, desperately clawing at the snares. Salt stings her eyes until nothing is seen except a mirage of dark blue. And the water! It is everywhere, driving her in every direction. Her body begs her to kick up, to obtain an infinitesimal fraction precious air. But her mind fights. Why does she want oxygen? She is dining on the nectar of failure, the ambrosia of isolation. The currents are pushing her deeper into the water; surely no one will ever find her corpse.

Her last thought is of a perfect day; sitting on the edge of a cliff, watching a sunset. A day when she was truly happy. In a way, she is watching another sunset. She is watching herself fall.

She chokes. Water is rushing into her mouth. Filling her lungs. Overcoming her senses. Yet she revels in this panic, and breathes the salty poison in. Unconsciousness begins its rapid infiltration of her senses. And then, blackness. Oblivion.

The storm dies down. Waves lazily swell back towards the shore, and patches of blue sky begin to emerge from the grey. A seagull cries, but this time, nothing hears it. Where is the seagull going? He is swooping down towards the beach, for a single, ruined blue slipper has washed in with the tide.

Compare/Contrast

    Folklore has been an essential tool in understanding diverse cultures for many generations. The Canadian La Corriveau, Hold ‘Em Tabb from the Wild West, and the Hawaiian Pele’s Revenge are three excellent examples of completely different folklore in society.

           Despite changes in culture, all three stories have been used to entertain, to frighten, to excite. La Corriveau is the story of a heartless woman who haunts innocent men, even in death. Marie Corriveau had become tired of her husband, and consequently murdered him, leading to her own execution. After her death, villagers started avoiding the road in which her corpse resided. However, one innocent traveler, Dube, decided to venture along this path one evening- much to his disadvantage. The ghost of La Corriveau attempts to murder poor Dube, but he manages to hold her off. The story is resolved when the holy Cure performs exorcises the spirit. Pele’s Revenge is much more mellow and melancholy. The tale starts with two lovers- Ohi’a and Lehua, who fall in love and get married. However, their bliss does not last long, as Ohi’a catches the eye of the goddess Pele. In her intense spite and jealousy, Pele turns Ohi’a into a tree. Lehua cries for her beloved back, and the Gods grant her wish by turning her into a flower on the tree. In the western folklore Hold ‘Em, Tabb, a dazzling mixture of silliness and mystery blend nicely to resolve in a wacky ending. Tabb decides to spend the night in a haunted house, while his friend chickens out and sleeps outside. Halfway through the night, a ghost suddenly appears and attacks Tabb! After an intense battle, Tabb and the ghost disappear, never to be seen again.

           As you can tell, these amusing pieces of fiction all have many things in common. For one, all of these stories are told in the North American region. Also, all three pieces feature male victims. Dube is attacked, Ohi’a is turned into a tree, and Tabb disappears. All unfortunate ends to practically defenseless characters. These three tales also feature supernatural beings; the ghost of Marie Corriveau, the goddess Pele, the random spirit. Hold ‘Em, Tabb! and La Corriveau both feature violent scenes of attack. Also, it appears the motive for said attacks are nonexistent- the victim just seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. La Corriveau and Pele’s Revenge are both are related to love- or lack thereof. The antagonist in both stories is a woman. On a literary note, La Corriveau and Pele’s Revenge are both written in third person. However, Hold ‘Em, Tabb! is written from the standpoint of Tabb’s friend.

           Despite the stunning amount of similarities, unique features set these stories apart. The conflict is not resolved in Hold ‘Em, Tabb!, and the purpose of the story is mainly to entertain, whereas La Corriveau was created to frighten, and Pele’s Revenge was told to explain the creation of the Ohi’a tree. Various themes, such as jealousy, death, play out in Pele’s Revenge and La Corriveau, respectively.

           It is fascinating to read different folk legends. Not only will they provide endless hours of entertainment, but a wide expanse of knowledge on different cultures is retained. After reading a few legends, you'll learn to relate and acknowledge similarities and differences; it's quite interesting to notice how despite a variety of geological locations, many stories in essence sound the same. La Corriveau, Pele’s Revenge, and Hold ‘Em, Tabb! are only a few of the diverse folk legends that are out there, but I would heartily recommend any three of these short stories to anyone who is literate, including you!