Dark Waters

A girls’ trip to the lake. It seemed as innocuous as anything else we could be up to as juniors in high school. Ella buzzed with excitement on the other end of the phone, pleading with me to take on a cheerier attitude about the whole excursion.

“It will be a blast! And it will be good for you- an incredibly healing experience with your very best friends! Please, please try to be optimistic,” she exclaimed, practically shouting into the phone.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, or that I didn’t want to spend the time with my friends. It’s just that recently I had been feeling a bit overwhelmed with dread, for no particular reason really, about basically everything in my life. A sort of terror was constantly looming over me, and it felt as if a scream might involuntarily explode out of me at any moment. At times it felt like I wanted to run, but my body was paralyzed with fear. And all the while, I could never even fully explain what it was that was making me so incessantly afraid.

I ruminated on my predicament as I packed my duffel bag, wondering what outfit went with trepidation the best. I finished just as the girls were pulling into my driveway, excitedly honking the horn and then giggling at my exasperation as I hurried down the walkway to them.

“You guys are too much,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Ella, Paige and Sam all beamed with pride at my statement, deciding to take it as a compliment. And even though I shook my head with an air of annoyance, I actually adored this attribute that they all effortlessly possessed. I wished I could be as confident and carefree as my best friends.

We sped off to the lake, singing along to our burned CD and gossiping about standard high school happenings. I loved moments like this- all four of us together laughing, joking, snacking and just living like there was nowhere else in the world but that Toyota Landcruiser cabin. For a while I forgot my worries.

Then, as we pulled into view of the woods, water and cabins, all those familiar feelings of unrest came back. And instead of rushing over me, like a violent flash flood, they crept in- silent, skulking and predatory. I peered through the tears that had begun to form in my eyes at the lake- unmoving and dark like a great pane of tinted glass. I shivered at the thought of those dark waters, of becoming submerged in them and of never coming out.

The steady drip of angst leaking into my heart had been excruciatingly slow, but by now had all but overflowed into the car- smudging out the remnants of our previous mirth. I realized all four of us had gone silent. I cautiously turned my head, expecting to be met by my friends’ worried gazes. I braced myself for their barrage of questions regarding my sudden withdrawal, but as I turned to face the rest of the car I found nothing.

Their seats were empty, but everything was exactly where it would have been had they been sitting there: the opened bag of BBQ Lays, Arizona Iced Tea cans in the cup holders and music suddenly blaring at a deafening volume. My heart raced as I held my hands over my ears, eyes darting around the car in hopes that my friends were hiding somewhere and playing a cruel joke.

I reached over to turn down the music, and as I did so, I heard a splash. My eyes shot up to the windshield in time to see blond hair disappearing into the murky water.

“Ella?” I thought.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and scrambled out of the car, almost falling to the ground and splashing mud from a puddle onto my legs and completely covering my flip flops. I paused in disgust as I noticed the mud was red.

“Must be clay or something,” I muttered out loud, hoping to assuage the panic that began to rise up to my throat, threatening to choke me.

I grabbed my water bottle from the car and poured the rest of its contents onto my feet and flip flops, trying to rinse what I could of the sticky, red mess. I gasped in shock at how cold it was, even though it had been at least 2 hours since I had taken it out of the refrigerator at the gas station. I shuddered. Staring at the empty bottle in my hand, my entire body went cold. I stood, frozen, for what felt like hours.

An ear-splitting shriek shattered the ice that encapsulated my body and, without a thought, I began to sprint to the lake. I hear splashing, as if someone was frantically trying to swim. And then I hear more screams. I am running for so long that my arms and legs start to burn, and my heart feels like it might explode in my chest. Somehow, though, I’m not there yet. I look for the lake and all I see are shadows- green, muddy brown and sometimes black. I’m confused. I’m tired. I want to stop.

Suddenly, I’m weightless. I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed- it’s just dark. And it’s so cold. I should be terrified, but strangely, I’m not. Maybe I’ve been engulfed by dark, cold terror so often that I’m numb to it now. I feel oddly peaceful. I feel myself succumbing to the nothingness, sinking deeper and deeper, becoming smaller and smaller.

As I silently disappear, I hear a voice.

“Swim,” she says. Ella.

I feel her hand in my hand, and she squeezes it gently.

“Swim,” she says again, more urgently.

And then again, louder, almost a scream, “SWIM!”

Suddenly, the brightest star erupts through the blackness. I feel a tiny smile inch across my face because I just adore stars. My heart gives way to a small flutter, and I wonder how long it has been since I felt it beat. The star starts growing- in size, brightness and even warmth. I feel the heat on my face and as it spreads to my chest, my shoulders and my stomach I begin to notice the darkness around the star starting to dissipate. As the inky black continues to dissolve, it leaves behind more stars, and more warmth.

I feel myself blink and I’m immediately ripped from the weightlessness and shimmering of outer space and thrust onto the hard, wet ground. Although I still feel warm, my clothes are soaked and my hair is wet and matted around my face. I blink a few more times until I can focus on the men kneeling over me, speaking soundless words.

“Firemen,” I think to myself, and can’t help but giggle at the thought of Sam’s obsession with firemen and the little smirk she’d be giving me right now if she could see this. And with that giggle, I am snapped back to reality. Sam. Ella. Paige. Where are my friends?

I try to whip my head to my right, but I can’t move. I feel hands on both sides of my face.

“No sweetheart, stay still okay?” a man’s voice says, soothingly. “You’ve been in an accident. You’re okay.”

An accident? I stare straight up at the blue sky in bewilderment. The man leans into view.

“You’re okay, honey.” he says again.

I struggle to form words, and my mouth doesn’t move the way I want it to. I keep trying.

“Friends?” I finally spit out.

“Yeah, honey, we’re your friends. We’re here to help you,” he reassures.

“No, my friends.” I start to regain some control, “are they okay too?”

He stares back at me in confusion. He looks across me at another man, who shakes his head.

“Sweetheart. You were in an accident. It seems you lost control in some mud and went over the guard rail and into the lake. Luckily, some people saw the whole thing and called us. One of them pulled you out, but nobody else was in the car. We checked.” he said, calmly.

My mind, reeling, began flashing back to earlier that day- our bags loaded in the back, knocking over a sunglasses display at the gas station as we chose our road trip munchies, pretending our Twizzlers were drumsticks in every drum solo we heard, Ella’s laugh that always made me laugh, my snorting that sent everyone into even more hysterical laughter…

The flood of images and sounds and senses all blurred together until it was black and silent again. This time there are no stars. There is nothing.

I slowly open my eyes. I see white linen, white and blueish gray walls and several bouquets of sunflowers. My favorite. I smile again.

I hear my mother’s voice and glance over at a half-open door. She is speaking with a talk, gray haired man in scrubs. A doctor, I surmise.

“We’re so grateful. Please tell the person that pulled her out and the people that called 9-1-1. We are so grateful,” my mom almost sobbed.

She rarely cries, especially not in front of strangers.

“It’s very strange. The medics who arrived on scene said she asked about her friends. She seems to believe she wasn’t alone in the car. Yet, there were no traces of anyone else, and the witnesses are certain they only saw your daighter when the car went in the lake,” the doctor murmured.

My mother’s voice became softer, almost a whisper, “I understand. You see, my daughter and her friends were in an accident almost 10 years ago, but just a few miles away from that very lake. My daughter survived, but unfortunately, her three best friends did not.”

My mother paused, and my heart was beating so hard I swore they both could hear it.

“Do you believe in guardian angels, doctor?” my mother questioned.

The doctor looked through the partially open door, and our eyes locked. I was frozen, tears streaming down my face as I remembered the voice begging me to swim. I remembered the screams of my friends, incoherent in the moment, but as clear as day now- they urged me to move, telling me I could do it as I fumbled with my seatbelt and pulled myself out of the car. The flashbacks of our time together had been from years before- our last happy memory before the biggest tragedy of my life. And yet, they remained with me, ensuring another tragedy was prevented.

“I do believe in guardian angels,” the doctor said, his eyes never leaving mine. “One of the witnesses says that as they hurried to get to the beach, they saw another young woman swimming with your daughter, but that when they reached her, your daughter was alone. The witnesses looked everywhere for this mysterious girl, and the medics did a thorough sweep upon arrival as well. There was no trace of her.”

My mother’s silent understanding loomed, and she too turned to meet my gaze.

I stared back at the two of them, my heart aching and overflowing all at once.

The dark water that had taken unwelcome residency had started to subside, and finally, I could breathe.