Submersion

Trapped within the depths of death,

I share what is your final breath.

Seeking bone and blood and skin,

I count to three and let you in.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did you hear about Sofia Alvarado?”

I leaned back on the palms of my hands, dangling my legs in the water. Though it was a pretty warm summer night, we were the only two by the pool. “No. Who’s she? Someone at your school?”

“No. Well, yes, I guess. She died here,” Alice said matter-of-factly, pointing to the middle of the pool. “Right there, in fact.”

“You’re lying,” I told her, but as usual she sounded far more confident than I did and barreled ahead.

“Nope, it was last year. It was a huge thing. They say she drowned but I think her dad killed her. At least that’s what her sister says.” She hesitated, flicking a leaf onto the surface.

“Did you see it?” I whispered, watching the leaf begin to float in circles.

“No, I was asleep,” she answered, voice clouded with equal parts disappoint and anger, like she’d wanted to watch. I stayed silent. Then, with the nervous energy of someone with a secret – “We could try to talk to her. You want to?”

“Like with a Ouija board?” I crinkled my nose. “We tried that last week, nothing happened.”

She brushed me off, not even listening. “No, it’s an incantation I learned. You just say their name and then recite where they died and it, like, opens a conduit. For spiritual energy, unfinished business, all of that.”

I wasn’t convinced: it sounded like another Bloody Mary, which we’d also tried before. I hadn’t wanted to play, but she had, and the only outcome of it was me covering up the mirror for a week. I wasn’t exactly eager to repeat the experience and be terrified of water for the rest of the year. “Where’d you hear about it, a psychic or something?”

She shrugged. “Tom told me about it. We didn’t try it though,” she added. Then, a little too quickly, “I think he was too scared. I would’ve, though. He didn’t want to.”

There weren’t a lot of other kids at the Suncrest Motel – especially not ones staying longer than a few days. Most of the ones that were around avoided the “weird witch girls,” or, like Tom, wouldn’t admit they hung out with us. That was fine with me. I wasn’t very good at making friends. But with Alice, I hadn’t really had a choice.

I’d met her at the beginning of the summer, where she’d seen me arrive with an armful of library books and promptly claimed me as her new best friend. We’d been inseparable since then, as inseparable as leaders and followers are. I didn’t mind; it felt natural, like the older sister I never had.

Staying in the outskirts of nowhere really gave you limited options for entertainment, so at least I always had something to do.

“So, you just say something and then jump in?” I asked, making a face.

She shook her head vehemently. “Mm-mm. No, you go underwater and then say it.”

“You can’t talk underwater!” I laughed, pushing her shoulder with mine. When she didn’t react, I backtracked. “I mean, would you even be able to make out the words?”

“I mean, would it even be part of the ritual if you couldn’t? Jesus, Lily,” she spat back mockingly, pushing me back harder.

I deflated. “No,” I agreed, keeping my focus down on the reflection of the glaring neon vacancy sign. She was right, that was stupid. “So what do you say?”

Clearing her throat, she straightened up dramatically and adopted an affected tone. “Trapped within the depths of death, I share what is your final breath. Seeking bone and blood and skin, I count to three and let you in.”

I knew I couldn’t look up, because I’d start laughing again, but I couldn’t let it go. “That – that sounds like a nursery rhyme.”

Immediately defensive of her newest game, Alice stiffened. “Shut up. It’s a powerful, ancient spell.”

“How ancient can it be if it rhymes like that? I mean – ”

“Well, if you’re so convinced it doesn’t work, why don’t you try it?” she snapped, bristling as I didn’t immediately play along. “Or are you all talk?”

I didn’t want her to think I was scared, but I was suddenly very aware of how dark it was. The rippling shadows dancing off the plastic chairs almost looked like ghosts themselves in the eerily-lit pool area, and I knew I’d have nightmares just from that. “Maybe we do it tomorrow? I don’t think my dad wants me swimming this late.”

She shot me a withering glare. “Are you serious? We’re looking for a ghost. It has to be at night.”

“I really don’t want to right now, okay?” I said sharply, kicking the water a little too harshly and splashing us both.

She stayed silent, staring straight ahead. As I opened my mouth to apologize, the malice on her face disappeared, replaced by a mischievous smile.

“Okay, whatever. I’ll go first.”

Before I had a chance to say anything, she slid into the water fully clothed.

“Alice!” I groaned inwardly, having a sinking feeling I’d have to follow her eventually. I always did. “Don’t go in there!”

“What, you scared?” she taunted, a glint in her eye I’d seen before. “Don’t worry, Lily, I’ll let you know if she shows up.”

Exasperated, I felt a surge of courage and opted for petty. “Good, I hope she does. Have a nice talk.”

An unreadable look flashed across her face before she narrowed her eyes determinedly. Posing cross-legged with her hands outstretched theatrically, she sunk under the surface.

I had to admit it was already pretty other-worldly before she even started. With her hair floating wildly, illuminated by the harsh underwater fluorescent lights, she almost looked like a ghost herself. Despite the August humidity, I found myself shivering.

She closed her eyes and begin to speak, the words garbled but somehow decipherable.

“Sofia Alvarado! Trapped within the depths of death, I share what is your final breath. Seeking bone and blood and skin, I count to three and let you in.”

An unnerving silence settled as I heard her say “in,” even though I knew it was just a game. I spent a little too long scrutinizing the darkness, eyes darting from shadow to shadow anxiously. I hated the moment when the games became too real, and I always forgot it had reached the point of no return until I blinked and was in over my head.

But the night stayed quiet, and I sighed in relief when no apparitions emerged from the pool. Still, I didn’t want her to tease me again, so I tried to steel myself to be as indifferent as possible for when she surfaced.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t move at all.

“Hey,” I said, lazily kicking water towards her, assuming it was a joke. “Hey!”

She still didn’t move.

“Alice! This isn’t funny!” Panic filled my voice as I realized there weren’t any bubbles coming from her mouth, and her face had gone slack. “Hey, c’mon, get out of – ”

My voice died as her body began to rise lifelessly to the surface.

I had never understood how you could drown while someone was watching you. Now I understood with a horrible clarity. The seconds to reach her felt like hours, and the short distance to the edge of the pool might as well have been a mile.

I don’t know how, but I managed to drag her onto the deck where she fell wetly onto her back, her face pale and limp. Whipping around, I found we were alone: the parking lot was devoid of the usual smokers, the night clerk was making the rounds on the other side of the building, and Dad had warned me the security cameras were just for show. I was the only one here.

“Help!” I yelled to no one, to everyone, as I frantically tried to remember how to do CPR. Was it one breath? Two? None? You did the compressions to the beat of…some song, right – but didn’t they change it recently? Do you do fifteen? Thirty? She would remember how to do it, why couldn’t I?

For once, do something yourself.

I couldn’t let my indecisiveness and cowardice be the reason another girl drowned in this pool. I screamed for help again, into the abyss, and willed my trembling fingers to steady. Pinching her nose, I gave her one quick breath before interlacing my hands over her chest.

“One, two, three, fo-”

I never got to four.

As soon as I finished “three,” my legs ripped out from under me and I flew backwards into the pool. My head bounced across the deck, exploding in pain as it smacked against the concrete. Before I could understand what was happening, I was underwater.

Something pulled me deeper until I was flush against the bottom, holding me down like an iron anchor as water forced itself into my lungs. My fingers scrabbled pointlessly against the tiles, finding no purchase on the smooth ceramic. I struggled relentlessly against whatever had wrapped itself around me, but it was useless. I was already drowning.

As my vision faded, I saw a translucent outline of a girl my age rushing towards me.

As my vision faded, I saw Alice sit up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night clerk found me floating face-down in the pool after hearing Alice’s scream for help.

They say I was lucky Alice was there that night. I’d tripped, I’d hit my head. Without her, I’d have drowned.

I almost did. But I came back.

We’re inseparable now, like sisters. She says it’s much better now that I'm back. That it’s not exactly the same as it was, but it’s better.

I was never quite exactly the same after that night. My dad says head injuries can really change a person. He doesn’t ask too many questions when I’m quiet or different or strange and is just happy I’m alive. He’s a good father.

Some aren’t.

Thank you for letting me in, Lily.

I hope someone does the same for you.