Mirrors

Swim

Chapter Two:

Swim

A deafening silence woke me from my slumber. I didn't wake from my usual bed; it was a place with water stretching beyond what my eyes perceived. Above my head was the glassy surface, with waves forming on top of each other. Nothing occupied the vastness, not even a mere fish nor a plankton. A shiver ran down my spine. The haunting silence dared me to say a word, but I couldn't even utter a mouse's squeak. There was no one there to accompany me.

I began to panic. My breathing quickened; I was hyperventilating. I gasped, sucking in more water to my lungs. The rushing water separated in a molecular fashion, bringing oxygen into my lungs. I took my first few breaths, choking in the process. My arms thrashed the water around me, causing a disturbance. I was an infant newly born into this unfamiliar world.

"Mom?" I called out, uttering my first word. My voice echoed back at me, causing anxiety to seep further through my veins. I sought for someone—anyone—to console me. "Dad?" I called out again, but no answer came. I couldn't be alone. How will I survive on my own? How will I live? How could I go back home? Where—where was I? More and more questions haunted me.

My heart leapt, causing my chest to swell in pain. My whole body began to feel sore. My skull felt like a mallet had slammed against it. I was about to faint. I couldn't control my composure. I didn't stop floundering.

In retrospect, I would have been all right. However with irrational thinking mixed into the situation, I couldn't calm down. The anxiety of being alone consumed me—of being abandoned. Neglected. I was forced into this world without my knowing, my consent. It was unfair. It was a change that I had no control of. In my head, it was the most frightening experience I ever went through.

A sudden memory played right before my eyes; phantoms began to appear in front of me. I was a lost child in the middle of a flowing crowd. Bodies slammed against me. Noises filled the air: frivolous laughter from a group of teenagers, the crying of kids younger than me, whispers of strangers, and loud jeering of mischievous boys. They passed by, minding their own business without even noticing me. They talked amongst each other; their voices blended upon each other like waves. Their gloomy, self-centered demeanor made them ignore a lost, out—of—place child. Some made eye-contact with their black, hollow eyes. Their hatred and irritation rose above all emotion.

I swam toward them, attempting to tug on their clothing. "Can you please tell me where Mom is?" I asked one. "Where am I?" No answer. Again and again no one answered. One even reacted to my question, though he pushed my hand away from his arm and gave me a smug look. I knew he wanted me to get lost, but he didn't say so. I pulled away, swimming to another. When I touched a person's coat, my hand went right through her.

I swam in circles, realizing how transparent the people seemed. These people were mere images of my mind—ghosts. They vanished after the realization. I was alone again.

I couldn't handle the loneliness. It ached throughout my body.  I wasn't made for a world like this. I needed the company to help me live. But was I even alive? I pinched myself, feeling a sharp pain travel along my arm. I couldn't be dead; this was nothing but a dream. I'd wake up any second from now. I'll be fine.

Though my reassuring seemed to calm me just a bit, I couldn't help but feel confined to a place I never asked to be in. I couldn't handle it. My temper got a hold of me. I swam towards the surface, displacing the water that floated my way as I pushed through it. I kicked my legs, creating frantic bubbles that disturbed the quiet world. Wake up! Wake up! I told myself. Wake up!

No matter how much I swam, no matter how much I forced my way through the surface, it seemed the fine line between the ocean and the sky was obscured. It was as if I swam in place, not able to reach the mocking surface above me. This fight for freedom was a stalemate. I couldn't back down, but this world kept me contained. I stopped trying to escape.

I screamed; the boiling anger inside of me heated the water closest to me. I calmed myself, fearing that somehow the ocean could cook me for a meal if I got too angry. I breathed a sigh, closed my eyes and paid much attention to my lungs—I felt the water change into cool, flowing air. When I opened my eyes again, I was hoping that I would awaken. I knew that that was wishful thinking.