Come swim with me

I relive the same nightmare every night. Night after night I walk down to the shore, the pebbles crunching under my bare feet, the sound of water lapping, softly washing over me. I stand in the water, just up to my ankles and feel the cold creep up my legs, into my belly, my chest, until my whole body is covered in goose bumps and shivering. Then I hear it. A soft, almost melodious voice whispering across the water “…come….keep coming… you’re almost home…” it sounds as if it’s spoken with a smile, gentle and reassuring. It’s not a voice I recognise, buts it’s oddly familiar. It’s everywhere, but nowhere. I can’t place if it’s a man or a woman, it’s just a voice, beckoning, guiding, calling me.

And every night, I go.

Slowly at first. I feel my feet moving one step at a time. The water, icy, a sharp sensation licking at my legs each step I take. It’s up around my waist and I can feel my night dress clinging to my body, cold and wet. By the time my shoulders are submerged, my legs are numb. They don’t feel like mine anymore but somehow they keep going. Kicking now, almost frantic. I should feel fear bubbling up inside me, but the freezing water is a drug that deadens everything except anticipation. I let my head sink below the surface and I can see my hair fan out around me as I search the blackness. Then, night after night, the silvery glow. A small, slender, pale hand appears out of the depths surrounded by so much darkness it almost seems iridescent in the emptiness. I can feel my heart leap and it takes all my effort not to suck in a sharp breath. But then it changes. The feeling of reassurance and calm evaporates and sheer panic grips me, overwhelming me. The hand closes in on my ankle and I feel half a dozen more reaching, grabbing at my legs, my arms. I can feel my body thrashing, but everything is moving in slow motion. My body feels disconnected and sluggish. The blackness is disorienting and even if I could move or swim away I couldn’t be sure which way was up. My lungs are burning now and I feel my floundering body grow weaker as those cold, cold dead hands grip me tighter pulling me down, down deep into nothingness.

Remorse.

Guilt.

Regret.

Prey.

I watch her standing on the shore, shivering just as I had, the water icy and uninviting. I call softly, letting my words hang in the air around her. I can feel her helplessness as she wraps her thin arms around her body and shudders. I call to her again in that same voice, gentle and reassuring, her fear and confusion smells sweet to me and lingers about her like stale perfume. I can feel her vacant eyes flicker up and stare across the water, into the distance as if searching for me. Her body responds, swaying slightly as she takes one step after another. Hesitant at first, then more sure, wading into the dark water. I can see her pale legs in the darkness cutting through the water with unknown purpose. I reach out to touch her and suddenly her calm, subdued face contorts into panic. She opens her mouth to scream but only bubbles escape, clouding around her like a distorted halo. I watch her in that split moment, before blackness envelopes her soul, a fleeting glimpse in her eyes. Just a flicker.

Remorse.

Guilt.

Regret.

And, just like that, night after night, I drag another soul away from the grip of the living into enteral darkness.

Just as I had done my own.

Remorse.

Guilt.

Regret.