Valeria Vedeneeva. Gift of the demon. Gift of the demon (№ 191522)

He's tired. Just tired. Like all the time here he walked and walked against the current, heavy wave knocked down, and the uneven bottom was forced to stammer, trying to throw knees. And only began to feel that pressure verse, but he stopped, trying to catch my breath, a new wave, higher and stronger than the previous, and with his head covered.
He's tired. I just wanted it to stop. To fall under the pressure of ice water, to give up, to go to the bottom. To accept. To die. Not to hear anything more except the noise of water and birds crying.