Tyler liked the lake. He liked the way he could lean back against a tepid surface and face the auburn sky. He found comfort in the way that he could surrender, let down his rigid posture and grant the small waves to do all the work. Allowing the water to pool around his skin, he welcomed the feeling of the soft rocking.

It wasn’t long ago where he had been strung in a similar position, forced to face upwards, eyes glued open as he could just about make out a sickly vermillion sky. Oily and cold, a mirror of the blood that trickled down his chin and painted the splintery stake that held him. It was a curse really. How simple it was to find his mind trailing back there, how even in moments like these he was reminded of the agony. The itch that remained ever present.

Nonetheless, no matter how distressing the glimpses of that time were, he could still appreciate the kindness that held him. Opposite in every way to that harrowing torture.

“You seem peaceful.”

“What?” Tyler’s form wobbled and he treaded the water to steady himself, spinning around to face the words that seemed too gentle in the usual manic voice it belonged to.