So it was. It was over. Never to torture me or cause me anguish again. It was only to haunt me, with that memory of the fervid, never-ending ring of fire that was permanently etched into my mind. It was an odd feeling. A near serene-like feeling; no more foreboding about the dangerous evils that lurked in the silent vigils of the night. No more hiding, no more crawling about like a dazed animal. But even through this relief there was a great feeling of despair. I was left helpless, totally and utterly helpless while I watched everything around me fall into ruin and shadow. There was no tomorrow. And even if there was, what would be the point of living it? There was nothing left for me. Everyone was dead; all the great cities demolished; maybe even my homeland was left to decay and corruption.

It was raining. No, it wasn’t raining... I was crying. Tears stung my eyes but they were empty. Just like myself. I wondered if there was anything left inside me, or if I was just an empty shell of my former self, ready to rot away in the infuriating sun. Smoke poured out from every crevice, turning everything even blacker than before, if that was even possible. Light turned into shadow. The rumbling of the mountain sounded as if the earth itself was roaring against me. Everything was.

I was numb; so numb from these last couple of months. The pain, the torture I had gone through; it was over. But it did not wholly leave me. It never would. I would always have that fear, that feeling of hate surrounding me. What could I do? How could I rid this feeling of hopelessness and helplessness? Would anything ever go back to they way it was before? I could scarcely remember what had happened before... before everything. What hope had this world?

Total weariness came and overtook me. Slowly, I felt myself falling backwards into whatever fiery chasm or gorge of choking ash and dirt that waited for me. And then, I stopped falling. I didn’t hit anything. Confusion seeped into my weariness. It was a someone. I turned my weak head. And suddenly, all my fear, sadness, anger, and helplessness flew away. A new light had come, so very bright that it lit and fueled my soul; a wondrous and awe-inspiring feeling in this time of darkness.

There, with a sad, tired smile, stood Sam. "It’s over, Mr. Frodo. You need not worry anymore. Your Sam is here." For the first time, in a very long time, I smiled.

Together we fell onto the rumbling ground, his hand in mine, prepared for wherever the darkness would take us.