Mirrors

Deep Diving

Chapter Fourteen:

Deep Diving

The voices became louder than ever before. Their noise dug into my brain, piercing through every nerve. It was like being surrounded by a crowd that participated in a screeching competition. Some of them mimicked the sound of nails that dragged across a chalkboard. The noise prevented me from thinking clearly; I could barely reach out to another object.

These voices attempted to cover a single song—the pleasant whispers of the ocean. The ocean tried talking to me, ready to tell me something vital. It was soothing, almost as if it made me float in thin air. Could it have been a mermaid? It soothed me as if I were listening to a lullaby. It was the melody amongst the broken notes of an unrehearsed orchestra. I deliberately listened to the angelic voice.

“You know what to do,” it said after it had finally caught my attention. “It’s the only way out of here.”

“I have the answer all this time?” I said, half talking to myself. I stopped and thought solemnly. Earlier, I had witnessed Shane’s confessions and regrets. He struggled for so long to release those repressed emotions. Lifting my memories off the rubble wasn’t the only thing I needed to do. What was left was my own forgiveness—to gather up everything in me to forgive myself. It wasn’t an easy task not with all my doubting; it wouldn’t fix itself in a blink of an eye. Shane and the constant bullying weren’t the only problems kept underneath the pile of repressed memories. There were more.

Like the thunderstorm Quinn and I witnessed, it would only get worse before it gets better. And the only way to make things worse was to swim deeper into the ocean. I had to swim towards the ocean’s bottom, finding more history behind those objects. It was the only way.

The noises didn’t rest even for a second. This orchestra wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. I tilted my body downwards, moving towards the bottom of the ocean. My surroundings soon became pitch black. The voices fainted away for just a tad, echoing together in waves. I felt the pressure of the ocean getting stronger, but I resisted the temptation of resting. I was about three hundred feet away from the ocean. Little sparks of light spread across the dark pit like stars. I observed one of them. The light came from a thin line, leading to a body with needle-like teeth. It’s body was bloated, with skin hanging loose from different angles. This was an angler fish.

This depth could have killed me in the real world. But this was still too shallow for anglerfish to be living in. Usually they go for about half a mile underwater. Right then, I could smell the wretched stench of rotten meat. The water had been clean from pollution. I guess this was where the garbage floated to eventually. My lungs took a deep breath, but dirt had gotten inside them. Uncontrollable fits of coughing took a hold of me, leaving me aching for oxygen. My whole body trembled, curling into a fetus position. Both arms hugged my stomach, feeling it fall and rise. Then finally, I stopped.

Someone behind me began moaning. It grabbed me by the waist, covering my mouth and nose with its filthy hand. It didn’t feel human; it felt like its body was made out of garbage and mud. I floundered, though tried my best to set myself free. The moaning had gotten louder, and the voices came closer and closer. I could feel their breathing; the gentle curls of currents came my way. They grabbed me, taking up as much surface area as they can. They felt grimy, like touching fungi-infested food mixed with hair that had been clogging up the bathtub. They were mindless, only going for a soul that was still sane—but maybe I wasn’t far off from being a lunatic.

I couldn’t see their faces. They were completely covered in mud. But I didn’t expect flesh to be under all that muck. They seemed almost blind, allowing only the movements of water to attract them. My diving down here made them fuss, too curious to ignore. This part of the ocean was undisturbed.

“Get off! Get off! Get off!” I screamed. The more they touched me, the angrier I felt—how it felt so good to be this infuriated. The water quickly boiled around me, making these monsters retreated in fright. Some attempted to retaliate to no prevail. I snickered in triumph, then started swimming along the bottom of the ocean. There were no objects floating around. The anglerfish gave enough bluish glow to show that nothing floated around. But there had to be something down here. There had to be something so buried; a memory that I tried to pretend that none of it ever happened.

And that was when it hit me: buried. The objects must be buried around the mud. I started digging with my bare hands. It was like digging through dung. I started gagging, careful not to make my surroundings worse by puking into it. My hands and fingers began to get piled on with mud. When I couldn’t find something on one hole, I moved on to another. Minutes passed by and I still couldn’t find anything. My arm began to ache, my head almost exploded and my legs throbbed. Finally after a few more digs, I found something. I sighed, taking a moment to rest. I placed my hand around it, and it felt it. It was a charmed bracelet, made out of golden chains. I haven’t seen this bracelet in years.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist. It pulled me toward the mud. The ocean’s bottom seem to open its mouth, engulfing my whole body. I couldn’t breath; the weight of the mud and grime crushed me. My whole body was paralyzed. There was no way out. The moaning began to get louder. I couldn’t help but feel afraid. Claustrophobia overtook me.

I found myself close to the surface again, with the bracelet in my hand. The random objects disappeared; only a handful remained. There was a letter, an easel, a vintage hand mirror, a typewriter and a journal. These objects were buried; someone had helped me dig them out.