Under Ice

The pond was frozen. The ice was thick and deep, just right for skating on. Edie recognized this pond. It was the one she used to go skating on every winter as a child in Minnesota. Living in Los Angeles for the last ten years, it had been ages since she'd seen ice like that.

She was only eighteen when she moved to LA, despite her parents cautioning her that work was hard to come by, and their possibly justified fears of predatory agents. Despite her own fears, Edie somehow avoided the worst people in the industry. After a few months of working as a waitress and various extra roles, she was cast in her first big role: the lead in an exciting new superhero franchise, Madame Jupiter. That was the role that put her on the map as Hollywood's next big action heroine.

The ice was smooth under her skates. She admired the lines she scratched out in its surface. When she was little, she'd wanted to be a figure skater. She would spend every weekend at the skating rink and told people she'd be in the Olympics one day. That was before an ankle injury at age twelve dashed those dreams. It wasn't long, however, before she discovered a new passion: acting.

Her parents had tried to dissuade her from pursuing acting professionally. They'd tried to persuade her to stick to community theatre, and work as a teacher or something. But just like figure skating had consumed her before the injury, acting had taken a hold of her and she couldn't imagine doing anything else as a career. In hindsight, maybe she should've listened to them.

After Madame Jupiter came a more serious drama, for which she earned her first Oscar nomination. After that, the roles kept coming to her. A period drama, a biopic of a famous singer, a few romantic comedies, and several TV shows kept her busy. But while she was excited for all the roles she was getting, the fame was not something she was equipped to handle. Interviews gave her horrible anxiety.

Edie readied herself for a jump, performing a double axle before she landed. She hadn't done that in years. Even though no one was there to see her, she did another one, landing just as lightly as she had at age twelve. The cold air made her feel alive, and the bare trees stood out in sharp contrast from the snow.

She hadn't been home in almost six years. The last time she went home was for her dad's funeral. He had passed away suddenly from a stroke. Luckily at that point, her schedule wasn't quite so packed that she couldn't go home to be with her family.

She started drinking more after her dad died. Before then, she hadn't been the biggest drinker among her colleagues, although she had taken to having a bit of whiskey before interviews to calm her nerves. Few people commented on it, until she started showing up visibly drunk.

The negative press that garnered only made things worse for her. Especially after an agent offered her anxiety medication at a party. It was prescription medication, but not prescribed to her. She kept telling herself she would go the correct route, see a therapist and get a real prescription that wouldn't make her feel quite so loopy, but between filming the next Madame Jupiter and doing press events, she could never seem to find the time.

As she did figure 8's around the pond, Edie thought she saw a shadow under her. At first, she thought she was imagining, but there was something moving under the ice.

The last few years had gotten worse for her, both personally and professionally. Her most recent project, an adaptation of one of her favorite books, had been suspended and the director threatened to fire her if she didn't get treatment. She left the set, but instead of driving to the rehab center, she drove home, where she took some more pills with a glass of sangria.

Edie peered down at the ice, trying to make out the figure moving under her. It was alive. At first, she assumed it was a fish, but it was too big. Then a hand pressed against the ice from underneath.

She'd gone out in her boat after taking the pills. Somehow, she'd had the clarity to put on a life vest. She rode out into the bay surrounding her beach front house. After that, things were a blur.

With dawning horror, Edie realized the truth: there was a person under the ice, and they were still alive. "Help!" Edie called. "Someone, help them!" But her cries were muffled by the snow. The blank landscape around her was totally silent. No one was there to help her.

Edie got down on her hands and knees, ready to see what she could do to help the poor soul. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

She vaguely remembered getting out of the boat to go for a swim. She'd gone farther out than she meant to, surprising herself. But then she'd been too tired, or maybe too drugged, to swim back. She drifted there in the water for who knows how long, resigned to either be rescued or drown.

Staring up at her through the ice was her own face, her own eyes. She barely recognized herself. Her eyes were frozen open in terror, her lips were purple, her hands desperately scratching and pounding at the ice. She must have fallen asleep, drifting there in the ocean. This was a dream. She was probably dying. This can't be the end, she told herself. It's not too late. I just have to wake up.