The Ocean's Call: Part One | ✔

Part Eight

Part Eight 

There is one thing that I hoped wouldn't return. The bad dreams. To start with I was having peaceful dreams, in the hospital I had happy dreams. Nothing was scary and I wasn't being tormented by the worries of what happened to me.

I did not miss waking up suddenly in the dead of night, my heart pounding in my chest.

I try to ease my breathing, hand over my heart on my chest. The rhythm is pulsating against my hand, the thudding loud in my ears. I've never had that dream before.

It was an out of body experience. I was floating through the water gazing down at my lifeless body lying on the ocean floor. I should've been consumed by the darkness down there, but I wasn't. I could see everything clearly as if it were day.

I feel like this dream is my brain trying to help connect the dots. Is that one of the possibilities of what happened during the missing four months of my life.

I look over at the window leading outside, a cool breeze coming through the screen. The sounds of waves crashing onto the beach is teasing me. The delightful sound both comforting and tormenting. The ocean knows what happened to me and it's frustrating that the answers I need are just within reach.

What happened to me?

How did I get to the beach?

Why didn't I die?

Who, or what, was pulling me down into the depths of the ocean?

So many questions swirling through my head and the lack of answers enough to drive me insane. I draw in a deep breath, focusing my attentions on lowering my heart rate. It takes a minute to even out, my breathing back to normal.

I flop back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. I think about the last day I remember before I washed up on the beach.

We were travelling back on the boat after spending the day collecting shells and enjoying the sun. I was well aware of my odd behaviour, the multiple incidents of my overactive imagination making me think these things in front of me were actually there.

I recall the strange events that happened in the water before I ended up with those scratches. Scratches on my wrist I'm still not entirely certain where I got them from. Was it a rock like I pretended? Was it something else?

I remember swimming under the water, turning rocks over and looking around for unique shells. What happened after that? The turtle! Oh yes, I remember a turtle swimming towards me, he bumped into me before pushing around me venturing away. There were baby turtles following him.

I remember wishing I had my camera; it would've made for a beautiful shot. After the turtles I was floating on my back, eyes closed as the bright beaming sun was shining down on me. My left foot begins to tingle, a small rush of zinging zaps racing up my leg. The sensation all too familiar.

I look down at my foot. I flex my toes, pushing my foot under the sheet as the sensation becomes uncomfortable. I don't like that reminder. After I was floating in the water, I remember stupidly opening my eyes, the sun blinding me.

I tried to wash away the glittering light behind my eyelids but that's where the bad stuff started. The ocean floor I could see before was long gone, an empty dark void in its place. All my dreams becoming a reality before my eyes. The uncomfortable feeling, I felt at the time feels so distant now, it doesn't feel as intense as did back then. Perhaps because I am only reliving in my head rather than actually being there.

"Isla." I whisper echoing the shriek that broke through my panic that day under the water.

I gasp, sitting up as I realise that was the first time, I saw that blonde mermaid in front of me. It was the same mermaid I swear was swimming beside the boat when we were supposed to be travelling home.