Keep swimming.
The further I go, the stronger his pull is. But this is my only chance. People like him never truly change. He is broken. But so am I. Maybe not like him, but our broken pieces fit together to make a mosaic of swims in the lake, late nights listening to music, the serene look on his face--both perfect and damaged--as I read to him, orgasms upon orgasms, that swirl of filth and arousal I feel when he takes charge of my body, silence that speaks louder than any words any one else has ever spoken to me. And the scars all over him. Different kinds. Some thick and long. Others short, like choppy brushstrokes on a painting. They cover part of him, like a painting of his story. A darkness he can't hide, no matter how hard he tries to silence himself. He was hurt. And I'd be hurting him again. I'd be sending him to jail. I help people. I take care of them. Even Johnny didn't need me as desperately as Sam does.
But I can't go back.
I know who he is. What he's done. What would that make me?
I come up for air and find myself at the center point of the lake. The spot I wished I could stay forever. Where I could keep the best parts of myself from both worlds. And I could keep the best parts of him.
I study the side of the lake I have yearned to reach since my first swim. I can't go back out to that world. I'm not her anymore. I just have her name, her skin, her eyes, her hair. But my soul? It's been completely altered. He's stained its purity with his darkness.
I turn towards the shore from which I came, part of me hoping he'll be there to force me back, but it's still and quiet. I look towards the other side that holds my freedom and I feel nothing. I stop treading water, and it feels so easy to let go. To let my body sink into the void. To watch the silver circle of the moon shrink as I descend into darkness. I don't feel so heavy anymore. I can just let everyone move on. I can stay here between both worlds forever.
As I go under the blackness engulfs me. This is freedom. No one can have me, but myself. I close my eyes, and take a breath. Instead of serenity, the water in my lungs shocks me. My eyes open wide and I jerk, awoken from this trance of helplessness. Down here, between two worlds, at its deepest point, it becomes clear. I don't want freedom if it means the life I had before all this. I can't imagine a life where Sam doesn't exist. This is the greatest test. The key to my new freedom. To show him I had the choice, and I chose him.
I push off the silty bottom and swim up as fast as I can before I lose consciousness. When I rise to the surface, I gasp and spit up water. The hollow sounds of my wheezing and gasping overpower the night sounds of the woods. I swim to shore, cough and vomit the water I inhaled, and collapse on the damp pebbles, rolling onto my back as I catch my breath.
He must be looking for me. I have to go to him before he comes to me. He needs to understand this is all my choice. I wobble up to my feet, fueled with the need to find Sam before he finds me. I run, this time having better bearings and a clarity of mind I didn't have when I was trying to find the lake. It takes me a quarter of the time to find my way back to the cabin. The door is still open. I glance in from a few feet away, still not able to bring myself to look directly at the event that upended everything. I could wait here. I could sit out front until he comes back. But I can't wait. I can't just sit here passively. This is a choice. From the very start, he's given me choices. Or the illusion of choices. But this time, it's all mine. I laid the options, and alone in the depths of the darkest waters, I made the decision to come back. I won't sit here and wait for him to come to me.
I have made the decision. And I have my demands.
I run in the direction where I know the barn was. I'm not sure how to get there, but I come upon what seems to be a worn path, probably cleared for his convenience for the daily trips to my cabin. I race down it, breathless, frantic.
He was terrifying when he last saw me. But I'm not scared anymore. I've run out of fear. I know he needs me, maybe even more than I need him.
I laugh in hysterical relief as I see a pale amber slits glowing in the distance. As I get closer, I see the outline of the barn in the darkness. I don't know what I'll find when I get there. Or if he's even there. But I sprint towards it, my dress wet and clinging to my body, my hair damp and sticking to my face and shoulders.
I almost call out his name, but I realize I know nothing about his life. I assume he is alone out here. That he has no close neighbors. But for all I know I could open that door and find a group of people in the barn. I don't have time to contemplate much further as the door bursts open, and out storms Sam.