Remnants

The bed I woke up in is foreign to me. It is large and quite beautiful, white and clean and I can hear voices in the distance as I attempt to get my bearings. I lift my head off the pillow and I feel groggy, my neck stiff. I push back the light duvet cover and swing my bare feet onto the soft, cream colored carpet and sit up.

I run my fingers through my long hair, it swishes my waist as I stand up. I headed in the direction of the voices, my stomach growling as I found the stairs and went down.

Around the gold and white table, I see people I don’t recognize, but I’m comfortable as I take a seat. The lights suddenly flickered so quickly that I just assumed I’d blinked had it not been for the looks on the faces of the others around me.

We all looked up to the ceiling at the same time as the lights twinkled again and we could collectively hear a whooshing sound coming from the second floor.

“What is that?” was asked by someone, I know it wasn’t me, but the responses were drowned out by the sudden rush of liquid flooding the vents in the ceiling and washing us all in freezing cold water.

I assumed a pipe had blown so I took off running, my feet slapping wildly against the tile floor as I rushed my way back towards the stairs. I’m struggling to see, my hair glues itself to my face and chokes my airway.

I get to the top of the stairs and the lights are vibrating madly. I rush to the source, a bathroom, and all the faucets are blasting. The driving water is blazingly hot, making the mirrors flash between steamy light and stiflingly dark.

The sound is deafening as I move towards the stand alone tub, its handles are forced upright and trembling towards the sky. I grab them and the heat of the metal handle burns my hand. I twist a hand towel around the shaft and pull as hard as I can to turn it off; it doesn’t budge.

POP!

The room is plunged into total darkness. A voice I didn’t recognize calls my name and I jump away from the flowing tub, my hand furiously swiping the hair from my face so my eyes will adjust to the pitch black.

I hear my name again, this time closer, with a more guttural rumble that makes the wet hairs of my arms prick up. I cannot answer, I think to myself, you’re not supposed to. My legs suddenly felt weak and even though the darkened room was warm and humid, I was freezing cold.

There was a blast of hot air against my ear and the tiny vanity light on the counter pulsed to life. I could see in that puny little reflective surface a terrifying black mass, darker than the dark, standing just behind me. I felt icy cold air push itself from my lungs as I shivered, sweat dripping from my brow.

The mass swirled and pulsed with the metronome of the vanity light. I squinted my eyes to try and see a face but all I could make out were long, terrifying limbs cloaking my chest.

“Let me go,” I whispered to the darkness.

“You brought me here,” it replies.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did, up here,” it snarls in my ear, pointing a long, stick-like finger to my head. “Your anger, your pain, called me here.”

I am horrified that this disgusting being was blaming me for what it does, the destruction it brings. I mustered every ounce of false bravado to turn my head and bellow

“Then leave!”

The smirking visage of the darkness was more horrifying than anything I’d ever seen. It lifted its gnarled hand and shoved me violently backwards. My feet tangled underneath me and the darkness rushed forward, dragging me into the tub.

Thrust into the ceramic deep, I thrashed around to try and find the bottom of the porcelain tomb but there was no end. I was pulled, whipping my body around to try and free myself from the clothing tightly enveloping my arms and legs.

The water I was in was getting colder and darker, I could feel the needling of salt pierce my nose and sting my eyes as I sank faster and faster.

My screams are muted but fall silent when I see her.

She was suddenly in front of me…my mother. She is floating, holding me still as she locks eyes with me. She pushes a lock of hair from my face and rubs her knuckles against my cheek. The panic that had seeped through every fiber of my being was suddenly gone and the water that cloaked me now provided me with oxygen to breathe.

“Mama?” I choked.

She smiled her crooked, sweet smile as she nodded, her beautiful red hair cascading around her like a hovering halo. I brought my hands to her arm, grasping her tight, allowing me to float in the most serene suspension I’d ever felt.

“I miss you, Mama. Why did you have to go?”

“We don’t get the choice my dear, I didn’t want to. I know you’re in pain.”

I burst into tears, the saline of my weeping mixed with the brine of the water surrounding us.

My mother didn’t wipe them away, instead saying “It’s alright to cry, my love. I cry too.”

“But it hurts Mama, it hurts so bad. I cannot sleep, my heart aches when I think of you, I haven’t even been able to go back to your grave…it breaks me.”

“I’m not there darling, I’m right here,” she pointed to the very center of my chest. Her finger drew a heart and then she pressed her palm against it.

“I can’t feel…I’m afraid…I’ll never feel you there again,” I murmured through my heaving tears.

“You will, I promise. Let go my love, let go…”

I started to slowly rise and my fingers tried to anchor to her tightly but I couldn’t get a firm grip. I began shaking my head fiercely.

“I’m not ready Mama, please!”

“You will be, trust me.”

I started to drift away from her faster.

The last words I heard her say was “I love you, always will. Just watch your step.”

The light exploded over me and I screamed myself awake. I heard the thudding footsteps of my husband as he raced over to the side of the bed to wrap me in his arms. I was shaking and gulping for air.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

I nodded and could only whisper to him how horrible it was.

“Come grab a cup of coffee, we’re close to the island now and we can watch the sun finish rising,” he said to me.

I took his hand and trailed behind him to the modest galley in the lower level of our small sailboat. He poured me a steaming mug, handed it over, and I walked towards the ladder to go above deck as he followed.

As we crested the deck, I saw the most beautiful sunrise peeking behind the horizon. I sipped from my mug and walked towards the ladder platform to get a better view, holding the hand railing as I dragged my tired, bare feet.

I closed my eyes tightly as I attempted to shake off the remnants of the dream so I wasn’t paying attention to the slip rug that tripped up my gait. My toes snagged the corner of the rug and the railing was suddenly no longer there. I could feel nothing but air as I plummeted towards the freezing cold blue water off the port side.

I gasped at the exact moment my husband called my name but there was no stopping my awkward and ungraceful fall and I landed with an unladylike backflop, my mug flying from my fingers and making its own loud PLOP into the ocean.

“Woman overboard!” my husband yelled as I broke the surface tension with a massive shriek.

He ran towards me, shoving aside the rug and reaching his hand out to pluck me from the ice cold water before I got too far away from him. His strong arm swept me from my watery dive and plunked me on the deck, soaked and shivering.

“You okay?” he asked as he searched me for any injuries. I pushed his hands away, assuring him I was fine.

“I need a towel please.”

He hurried back to our quarters to find one as I leaned forward to pick up and read the upturned rug that caused me an impromptu dip.

A very shameless bark of laughter broke from my mouth. I looked up at the fully risen sun, bright and exquisite, as more unstoppable laughter wheezed from my chest.

“Very funny Mama, you got me,” I said while placing the rug back on the now wet deck, positioning it so I could read the words again:

Watch Your Step