Fever Dream Red

4

I glanced down in concentrated horror. The wood had splintered underneath my feet, violent spikes now sticking out of the surface. The blood ran away from my face and I started shaking uncontrollably.

It was then that I realised I didn't want to die. Not just yet. Maybe it was my cursed human instincts stepping in, but I had to survive. I made tentative steps back to safety, and tiptoed across the floorboards as if there was a giant monster I was trying not to wake up. The monster was beneath me, growing increasingly choppy and merciless.

It was my own fault. I was looking for cheap thrills to counter my own mortality whilst outside the bubble of Gloomy Cay thousands were dying. I could've said that it was the island. After everything that had happened there, deaths didn't me feel much anymore. It didn't make any of us feel much.

I could've blamed the island, but I would be making excuses for myself. I couldn't hide behind Gloomy Cay forever. Sometime I would have to step out.

The guilt almost swallowed me whole before the monster did. If I had died, what would Danny and Inez have done? What would they have felt?

I stumbled sheepishly back over the caution signs. I was changed in such a way, but I didn't know how. Maybe it was the island playing tricks on me. Maybe it was the island transforming me. Maybe it was me being melodramatic.

It was definitely me being melodramatic.

I then realised how I had changed. I had been humbled. I had been taught of my foolish instincts and helpless insignificance.

I came to a crossroad at the lobby of the apartments. I could either go back upstairs to the confines of my room or go further down to the beach. It was desolate, but the effects of abandonment were lesser down there than on the pier. The beach was untouched. Beautiful. It belonged to the island. It was part of it.

I decided my adventuring wasn't done for today. Maybe there was some spare confidence that needed to knocked out of me. Maybe I just couldn't be bothered socialising with those upstairs.

Never the less, I worked my way down to the beach happily, like I would've done all those years ago, when I was just a child.

I loved the beach then. I used to make sandcastles with Zoe and play cricket with Skye and the boys.

When I became a little older I used to swim in the sea. I loved it, even though most were scared of the sea. I always thought that that was stupid. The sea was the closest I could get to escaping the island, and my life, then.

I was at the pavement, just before the beach. It was deserted, as always. An urban wasteland, Albermis, stood beyond me, the concrete and glass creating sharp edges in the skyline.

I stepped onto the forgotten sand. It hadn't felt feet under it for so long. I wondered if it was sad, just lying there, with only the mournful clouds over them. They were tearful now, as I looked above.

I took off my trainers and sunk my feet into the sand like I did all the time when I was little. It was the softest thing I had felt in a while. The sand covered my feet, comforting the worn and tired skin like a blanketed bandage.

I started walking down the long beach, in a sort of trance, not registering happenings.

About halfway through the soft sand became solid and darker. The sea had left its imprint. Seaweed clumped together, all curly and wet like mermaid hair. My heart beat faster, sensing anticipation in my mind.

I was getting closer.

I left my imprint on the wet sand too. The soles of my feet collapsed the smooth surface of it. Then my feet stomped, became tangled with, and displaced the seaweed. Under my skin it was wet and slimy and I violently shook my foot from its grasp.

I was there. I looked out onto a blue land, roaring and moving with every second. I took a step onto it, wincing at the cold climate.

The waves lept at my feet, tasting me, wanting me. Then the sea retreated. Then it came back. It couldn't make up its mind.

I walked further. Sea sloshed at my ankles, inviting me deeper. I accepted.

I sank into the land. I didn't walk on top of it. I was not of its world. It was mysterious, majestic and beautiful. I was neither majestic or beautiful, and if I was nobody had told me so yet. I was mysterious, although for all the wrong reasons.

I walked further, in the trance, possessed and mystified by the sea and its mind that was truly it's own.

I blinked, and I realised I was waist deep. The true blue of the water seeped into me, rocking my core. I shivered uncontrollably. It was then I realised rain was falling on me, soft and gentle, then rough and hard. Pelting me, punishing me for falling so hard into its dephs.

I waded hastily out of the sea, but the water didn't want to let me go. It became volatile because of my rejection.

A wave crashed over me, and I went under. I shut my eyes to the saltwater that threatened to sting my eyes. I could hear the water gargle in my ears, mocking my fear. In the end, I washed up onto the rocks on the shore.

I could feel a slight sting on my chin and forehead, but otherwise the water had left me unscathed. I sat at the edge, my eyes dull and almost lifeless.

I sat for a while, contemplating my existance in the rain, like a depressed seal. I was dripping wet, my hair sticking to my face like mouldy seaweed.

I then heard thunder roaring through the sky. It snapped me out of my trance and then I was running.

I was running back to my room. I was running across the wet sand. I was running on my bare feet, hearing the clumsy clopping of my trainers in my hand. It was my only indication of reality, and I had only just remembered to pick them up. I was running up the stairs, trying my best not to stumble.

I walked calmly to my room once I had got to my floor. I didn't want anybody to think I was a lunatic. It was silly really: the end of the world and yet I still cared about how others perceived me.

Maybe it wasn't so silly. These were the people I would spend the last of my days with. Their opinion did matter.

I got into the shower, and with every piece of clothing I peeled off of me, a wave of fresh shivers washed over me, pushing me further and further into reality.

I got into the shower and I felt the water stain me in calm and cleanliness. I stayed in there for a while, letting the water work its magic. By the end I felt cleansed.

The sea had possessed me. The water had been my exorcism.

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