Submerged

I want to be gobbled up. Thrown in a cesspool. Just…consumed by shit. Like, actual shit. That’d be what I deserve. Get me ravenous, spin me around a few hundred times, then throw me in a cesspool. Yeah…

Jeanie and I were sat at the water. On a bench watching the lake. We came here every other day when the weather was okay. Sometimes when it was not, and the sky was pouring out its sorrow. Living in a small village, this was the only place to come as a means of escape. Today was clear. Cold, but clear. An immaculately blue sky lay overhead, but you were unable to look at it without shivering. Often, we’d come here to just sit in silence, to be with our thoughts. In fact, a lot of the time I could hear her thoughts over mine, telling herself tales of woe. Sometimes, even just running through chores in her head.

I should make my bed when I get back. Wash some clothes. Look for work. Reach out to someone. I’m not sure why I continue to give my parents a reason to hate me. It’s simple, really, to be someone they would admire and be proud of. Yet I can’t seem to be that person. I can't seem to be that person for anyone. I’m so stupid. So worthless. I'm so ready to move on from myself.

Today, though, she was more talkative than normal, and perhaps I was more attentive. Maybe a lot of the time she did speak, and I just couldn’t hear her over the stillness of the reservoir. Sometimes it was easy to imagine myself submerged and I heard the world around us as if I was. Sometimes, it was more difficult, and I found myself longing for the sensation. Today was one of those days. It was actually when some overt noise, a flock of birds crying in unison, rushing somewhere far away, that she seemed to speak, and I seemed to hear her. That’s what was happening now.

“I really wish I could drown here,” she said amongst the vigorous flapping of wings. “I’m tired of living.”

My mouth fell open a little as I felt the pain of her words hit me like they were my own. As though I was the one who really felt them. I know, though, she really felt them too. I stared at her for a moment. She was smiling back sweetly, without parting her lips. Jeanie wore her light brown hair in a ponytail, leaving strands loose to fall gracefully by the right side of her delicate and smooth face. Her forest-green eyes flashed at me, indicating her suspense.

“I think you’re a beautiful person, Jeanie, I…wouldn’t want you to drown,”

Jeanie scoffed. “You’re just saying that.”

I turned away from her again, feeling stillness. Like I was the lake for a moment; surrounded by a vista of green and blue, yet somehow holding little life.

“No,” I said, “I’m not just saying that Jeanie.”

There were a few moments of silence. I thought that was that. That we'd just fall back into our thoughts and not say another word.

“But, don’t you crave it?” She exclaimed. “Surely you do too? To just be done with it all. To feel the relief of finally giving in? Honestly the thought is the only thing that seems to get me excited these days.”

“Look, we’re both in a tough phase,” I told her, “but we both have a future. A good one.”

I looked deeper into the lake, feeling heavy. Like gravity had increased two-fold. There was a nauseating effect. Then, the sensation enveloped me; I was submerged. I could faintly hear the cries from a second flock of birds, but sounds of me gargling underwater in my mind’s eye drowned them out. I felt it, too. I could have been making the sounds out loud for all I could tell. Of course, I knew what she was talking about. The imagined relief is part of the reason I joined her here so often. The sensation eased, like a high slipping away. I could start to hear my breath, which was increasing in intensity, but not enough for Jeanie to notice. I quickly steadied it.

“The world doesn’t deserve you, Jeanie.”

I was running. Harder than I ever had before. One foot thumping on the ground after the other. I had been going at full pace for around ten seconds, but I already felt wheezy, impeded by the crisp air that felt sharp enough to cut my insides as I respired. My head raced faster than I could, rapidly being filled with something like a thick cloud, that made the many thoughts too incoherent to do anything with. Something was coming for me. Fast. I had to get away. I sprinted through the dimly lit streets of the village, jerking my head around every now and then only to find the pitch black. But it was there. I had no doubts. I ran under trees dead and devoid of leaves. I hadn’t planned it, but I realised my feet were carrying me to the lake. The lake? What good will going there do me? There’s nowhere to hide. Yet, something compelled me to continue on route. Something’s there, my mind told me. Something worthwhile.

I halted at the foot of the reservoir. Where the water met the dirt. I felt sure I was still unsafe. That I would be found, grabbed in a matter of moments. But I was exhausted and compelled. Awe struck me; the view was incredulous. Stars dotted the sky like I had never seen them before, leaving little space between their glows. As though thousands upon thousands of angels above were shining torches. The moon lay just above the lake, looking jagged. Bitten into. There was silence. Nothing, as I stared and revelled in the beauty. I looked so intently above that for a few seconds I felt as though I was falling in reverse; to dissipate into, or be swallowed whole by the night sky. Then, with my next gulp, I was grounded. There was still silence as I found the presence of mind to look around me, feeling my nausea rise alongside the rediscovery of my own trepidation.

I was sure something was out to get me. I came out for a peaceful walk, to collect my thoughts, but something was watching me, creeping up, I could hear the footsteps. I heard twigs snap. My mind didn’t play tricks on me to the extent of feeling as though I was being hunted down. An owl’s hoot sounded with the resonance of a gong, making my insides jump. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled visibly, rubbing my arms to try and quell my shivering. I heard the swishing of water and my breath stopped. An unnatural sound, nothing a fish or a swimming duck would make. The swishing sound came again. Like someone was striding through the water. Then, out from behind a congregation of dead trees to my left emerged a cloaked figure.

I stared on. Dead. The hooded figure walked zombie-like through the water, stuttering in movement. Looking close to tumbling down but somehow still in control of staying upright. Its cloak fell neatly beside them as it strode, elegantly surfing the water. The figure wasn’t taking any notice of me, though I felt certain it knew I was there. Instead, it continued on across the serene landscape. My breath came back to me in short, restrained pants. I noticed the air suddenly smelt, unmistakably, of fresh blood. The figure walked until it was straight in front of me, still at a distance, then it stopped.

Stopped as dead as I was stopped. I looked on at it, viewing it from its side. It was like a Dementor from Harry Potter, or The Nine from The Lord Of The Rings, as though horrors from fiction had leaked into the real world to meet me. The wraith-like thing continued to be still, long enough so that I became aware of how intensely my heart was pounding. It felt like explosives were setting off inside me with every beat. I winced in pain. The figure slowly began to turn, the pain left, and all my senses were suspended once more.

Its face was hidden in darkness. This thing was like death. I mean, that’s where those authors got their inspiration from, right? The grim-reaper. Now facing me, the figure stopped turning and screamed a hellish scream. The piercingly high frequencies shot at my eardrums, and scraped, hell, hammered at my bones. I fell to the floor in total submission. I could have yelled out but I was aware of nothing but the pain. The thing's scream ceased. I was on my hands and knees, digging my nails into the sinking dirt and sobbing. That was the sort of sound nothing should be subjected to, the very sound an afterlife of torment would be filled with. With tremendous effort, I lifted my head only to find the thing was now only a few feet away. I yelled out, pushing myself onto my back in panic and using my hands to get further away. Revealing a human hand, the thing beckoned me with a hooked finger. Hooking and unfurling. Hooking and unfurling. I stopped trying to get away, and let my mouth fall agape.

“Jeanie?”

There was no logic behind the conclusion, but the realisation was too powerful to dismiss. A current of energy seemed to spawn between us, and I felt all control slip away. I stood, and walked into the water to meet her. The water was warm, soothing. I grabbed her outreaching hand, which was cold and clammy, and she led me deeper into the lake. We got as far as up to our necks before we stopped. Jeanie grabbed both my hands beneath the water, and faced me, though I could still see nothing under the hood of her cloak. Inside, was a duality of comfort and a sense of doom.

“We’re now where we need to be,” she cooed.

And it was Jeanie’s voice. The sweetness of it was so easily discernible, and so blanketing that it was hard not to agree with her.

“Jeanie I…I,” I struggled to get words out, “I don’t…understand.”

“You do,” she responded with conviction, then looked above.

I followed her gaze to find an empty sky.

“There are no stars now.” She said. “No moon either.”

Then I was forced down into the water. Everything was loud. I could hear the pressure, I could hear myself gasping and gargling, producing an array of bubbles that rose rapidly to the surface. The force of her hands on my head was impossible to resist.

“This is what you want!” I heard her shout. “I know this is what you want!”

My head went light, and all sounds came to a murmur. My body was dazzled with feeling, and for a moment I stopped writhing to experience it. This is the sensation that I’d been craving. I felt more peace in that moment than I had ever felt by just imagining what drowning must be like, let alone over the years of my chaotic life. Then, something in me snapped; a realisation more profound than concluding that Jeanie was this nightmarish figure. My times with her, sat in peace and distress, flashed in my mind, yet as they did, I pictured her face as mine.

“YOU’RE A GHO-O-ST!” I screamed into the water, taking advantage of a surge of energy by kicking at Jeanie’s legs. Somehow I managed to trip her, and just like that, her force fell absent and I leapt out of the water into the vista of stars and moon, gasping for the oxygen like I gasped for that sensation of drowning for so long. I plunged myself back in the water, placing my hands on Jeanie to keep her down. She squirmed. Writhed and squirmed. I cried and yelled into the water, fixating on her cloaked figure, feeling terror amidst the adrenaline. I held her down until she stopped moving, then I rose for air. Everything was still. There was no sound. Part of me wanted to go back underneath to unveil the face behind the hood, but I couldn’t face it. Part of me wanted to go back underneath to drown, but I couldn’t face that either. Instead, I propped myself up on my back and let myself float under the jagged moon and angel’s torches. It’s amazing how they came back.