Staring down the front of my body, I see that I’m still wearing the pink cotton nightgown I put on before bed. My bare feet stand on the rickety wood at the end of the dock and they’re wet, covered in dew and damp blades of grass from walking across the property to get here, and I realize I must have been sleepwalking. The humidity in the air covers my skin in a thin sheen of sweat and as I stare out at the moonlit lake, the cool water calls to me. The quiet peacefulness of the night, filled only with the sounds of chirping crickets and croaking bullfrogs, distracts me from the scary thought that I wandered down here alone in the middle of the night while I slept.
What if I’d fallen in? What if I’d jumped in? I’m out here alone, in the middle of the night, and my parents would never know I was down here because they assume I’m asleep in my bed, safe and tucked in where I’m supposed to be. They wouldn’t hear me scream from this far away and they wouldn’t be able to save me. I think about my dream, a memory of the accident I’ve been told about that happened when I was little and the cause for me being afraid of water and never learning how to swim. My heated body suddenly gets a chill and I wrap my arms around myself. Maybe they were right. Maybe they didn’t lie to me about this one thing. Looking out at the dark water, I can see myself sinking under, my eyes wide with panic as the water covers my mouth and my nose, but I don’t feel afraid. In my dream it felt like I was outside of my body, looking down at myself, urging that little girl to let the water take her. I feel excitement coursing through me as I picture that day and see myself disappear beneath the water. Happiness overwhelms me knowing it will all be over soon and the pain will finally stop.
I stare out at the rippling water as fish move beneath the surface. The light from the moon slowly begins to disappear as a cloud moves in front of it. I’m still groggy from sleep and on edge knowing I walked down here alone in the middle of the night without remembering doing it, but I still have an unnatural urge to jump into the water. I want to know without a shadow of a doubt which of my memories is real. I immediately shake the thought from my mind. Even half asleep, I’m still not stupid enough to do something so foolish. I will not put my life at risk just to test out a theory to prove I’m right, no matter how much I want to.
Lifting my foot to take a step back from the edge of the dock, something hard suddenly slams into my back with enough force to make me lose my balance. I don’t have time to scream; I don’t have time to turn my head. I can do nothing but windmill my arms through the air as I pitch forward into nothingness. I gasp in fear and shock when my body hits the cool water, swallowing a mouthful as I go under. I’m immediately swallowed by darkness as I sink to the bottom like a rock. I open my mouth to scream and more water flows inside, into my lungs and up my nose. I forget everything but the dream and the need to let go and allow the darkness to take me. I forget to fight; I forget to move my arms and legs, and I forget the pain. There’s no pain down here at the bottom of the lake. There’s no confusion, no lying, no secrets…nothing but silence and freedom from everything that hurts.
“Bad girls get what they deserve. It’s time for you to let go and accept what you are. There’s no saving you, and there never will be.”
I don’t want this. I don’t deserve this. I can’t let it end this way—it’s not fair. I’ve always been a fighter and I won’t let them win. I can’t let them win. My lungs are on fire and my body feels numb, but I refuse to give up. I force my mind back into focus and concentrate, letting my adrenaline and instinct kick in. I start scissoring my legs and pushing my arms through the water. As my body slowly begins to lift from the bottom of the lake, determination flows through me, as I access an ability that I now know I have. My arms glide through the water with efficient, perfectly executed breaststrokes as my legs kick harder and faster behind me, propelling me upwards so fast that my head breaks the surface within seconds. I cough and spit out the water from my lungs, my legs in constant motion to keep my head above water.
Pain radiates from the middle of my back as I continue moving my limbs, reminding me that I wasn’t alone out here in the middle of the night. Someone followed me…pushed me.