Quintessential Elemental: Drowning in Silence, Aputi's Story by Kevin Wikse

Rain fell in a slow, steady drizzle, a melancholy backdrop to the world outside the frosted window of the tiny apartment. Sixteen-year-old Aputi, her name meaning “snow” in her native Inuktitut, sat curled on the edge of her narrow bed, staring out into the grey Seattle streets below. The city never felt like home, but it had been her cage since her father died, since everything that once held meaning washed away like the tide.

Her father, Qimmiq, had been everything to her—a stoic fisherman who never spoke much but who radiated a quiet love that filled their small world. He wasn’t the kind of man to lavish words or displays of affection, but his presence had always made her feel safe, like an anchor in a storm. When the Pacific claimed him, it had been like watching the horizon collapse into itself. Aputi hadn’t seen it happen, but she could imagine the scene too well—his strong hands pulling at the nets, the salt spray on his weathered skin, and then the icy waves closing over him. A cold betrayal. How could the ocean—the same one that had fed them, nourished them, been the lifeblood of her family for generations—take him from her so violently, so indifferently?

Now, she was left with little. The silence of the apartment gnawed at her, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside. A cage, indeed. Her brother, Malachi, was supposed to protect her, but even before her father's death, he had begun to slip. Drugs had slowly hollowed him out, like a glacier eroding the earth beneath it. At first, it was something small—just a crutch, he said. But it became a beast he couldn’t control, dragging him deeper into debt, into desperation. And now, Malachi was gone too, locked away after a robbery gone wrong. She had visited him in the precinct last night, the air between them thick with shame and sadness. He hadn’t even looked at her when they spoke. 

"I’ll get you out of this mess," he had murmured, though his voice had cracked under the weight of a thousand unspoken lies. She knew there was nothing left of the brother who used to promise her the moon and stars, the one who swore he’d never let anything bad happen to her. 

Now, she had nothing but memories. 

Their mother—if one could call her that—had vanished the night Aputi was born. The idea of a mother was nothing more than a silhouette in her mind, an absence that had always been there. Growing up, she heard whispers, rumors. Some said her mother had run away from the hardships of their life, from the cold, the hunger, the isolation. Others, the ones who whispered when they thought she wasn’t listening, spoke of darker things—that her mother had been one of the many women swallowed by Canada’s Highway of Tears, taken by the shadows that stalked those long, lonely roads. 

Aputi had long since stopped wondering if her mother ever cared about her, ever thought about her. You can’t mourn someone who was never there. But the absence still hurt, a wound that never quite healed, even though she didn’t understand why.

Despite everything, Aputi clung to her father’s memory. His absence, though painful, was something solid, something she could touch. She couldn’t mourn her mother, but she could mourn him. And so she did, every day.

And then, the Triad came.

The Flying Tigers, enforcers for the Chinese Triad’s gambling operations, had found her doorstep after Malachi’s debts caught up with him. The first time they came, it was just a warning, delivered with cold smiles and veiled threats. The second time, they shattered the windows of the apartment, glass raining down like shards of ice. And the third time? Aputi didn’t wait to find out. She couldn’t stand the silence anymore, the waiting. She had no family left to protect her now, and there was no safety net, no arms to catch her when she fell. 

The despair that wrapped around her was thick and suffocating. It was as though her heart had been encased in ice, slowly freezing over with each passing day. She could feel herself sinking deeper and deeper into a haze where nothing made sense and nothing mattered. Every step, every breath, felt like a burden. Each day was like standing on the edge of an abyss, staring into the dark, waiting for something—anything—to pull her back.

But nothing did.

Tonight, Aputi had made her decision. The knife had been in her hand for hours, its weight a strange comfort. She had drawn a bath, hot water steaming and swirling like the fog outside. She didn’t want to feel cold when she left this world.

Sinking into the water, Aputi felt the heat wrap around her, but it did little to thaw the ice that lived within her heart. She stared at the knife for a moment, the silver glint of the blade catching the dim light of the bathroom. It felt like the answer to a question she had been too afraid to ask. The knife slid across her skin easily—far too easily. She watched, almost in fascination, as the crimson spread across the water, tendrils of red reaching out like fingers, pulling her under.

Tears fell, silent and steady, mixing with the blood, dissolving into the bath as if even her sorrow could be swept away. She closed her eyes, the world dimming around her. At least this, she thought, would be quiet. At least in death, there would be silence.

But then something stirred.

The water, warm and soothing, began to ripple, though she hadn’t moved. A strange hum vibrated through the tub, like the low roar of a distant waterfall. Aputi’s eyes fluttered open, half-conscious, barely clinging to life, but enough to see the impossible. The water was… alive.

It twisted and churned, forming into something. Someone. A figure, rising from the bath, taking shape before her eyes. It was made of water, shimmering and translucent, yet somehow solid. A man, but not just any man. Her father.

She gasped, though it was barely more than a whisper. “Father?”

The figure didn’t speak, but the love she felt pouring from it was unmistakable. It wasn’t just the shape of her father—it was him, in some strange, otherworldly way. His presence, the warmth of his love, flowed through the water, filling the air around her. She felt his hands—soft but firm—gently pushing her wrists out of the water. The blood that had seeped from her cuts began to retreat, drawn back into her skin as if the very essence of the water pulled it from the air and wove it back into her veins.

Her wounds closed, the pain dissolving as the water elemental wrapped her in its embrace. She could feel her heart mending, not just her body. She hadn’t realized how broken she had been until that moment. The ache in her chest that had been there for so long, that had threatened to consume her, began to lift.

Tears fell again, but these were different—tears of wonder, of sorrow and love entwined. Her father had returned to her, not in life, but in this form, in this moment when she needed him most. 

The elemental, her father’s love, remained for a moment longer, as if to reassure her, before dissolving back into the bath. The water stilled, and Aputi was left alone once more, but she knew she wasn’t truly alone.

She stood from the tub, shaky but alive. The darkness had not claimed her. Not yet.

As she wrapped herself in a towel, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. There was something different in her eyes now—something she hadn’t seen in a long time. Hope.

She could feel a soothing undulation under her skin, like a fish swimming through her veins as if they were a stream. She wrapped her arms around herself and breathed in a sharp, deep inhale of relief. On the fogged-up mirror, an invisible finger traced the words, “I love you.”

The Flying Tigers still loomed like a storm on the horizon. Malachi was still behind bars. Her past was still filled with shadows.

But now, she had her father’s love, a piece of him that would always protect her. She had survived the abyss, and though the future was uncertain, she had found something within herself she thought had been lost forever.

Strength. Vast and deep as the ocean.

-Kevin Wikse

Thank you for visiting my page. I am the only medium, remote viewer, and occultist who, with frightening and stunning accuracy, foresaw the COVID-19 pandemic/hoax and its sinister connections to China. Masks, weaponized and experimental vaccines, mandatory compliance, medical tracking on smartphones, the debacle of the 2020 election, the border crisis, the ILLEGAL migrant and CCP invasion, the specter of World War III, and the looming Magnetic Pole Reversal Global Cataclysm—I predicted it all. VAIDS (Vaccine Acquired Immunological Deficiency Syndrome) and even Dr. Fauci himself, all in my sights as early as 2014. Don’t believe it? See the complete, time-stamped, and documented evidence HERE. 

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