Page 34 of Through the Water

7

Ariana

“There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.”

-Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

The scent of burning rubber clung to my nostrils, along with something else I couldn’t quite identify.

Gasoline maybe?

Thick smoke billowed out from under the hood of the convertible, obliterating the last remaining rays of light from the sunset along with any chance of me being found before morning.

I managed to lift my head just enough to determine Tristan’s car was nothing more than a twisted heap of metal before collapsing against the earth again with a muffled moan.

Something sharp dug into my palm, but I couldn’t move. Drawing even the smallest of breaths sent shooting pain throughout my entire body.

I wouldn’t survive long—not like this. My limbs grew heavy in response, tugging me toward oblivion. But instead of bright light or a heavenly voice calling me home, there was nothing but darkness.

I didn’t mind.

The void felt familiar—safe.

Like I’d dreamt of it before.

Maybe I had. Perhaps deep down, I’d always known it was going to end like this. I halfheartedly fought against my slipping consciousness before closing my eyes in relief.

It didn’t hurt anymore.

This wasn’t giving up… it was merely giving in to the inevitable.

“The car’s down here!”

I parted my lips to cry out before it struck me that I knew the voice.

And suddenly, I didn’t want to be found.

My leg jerked involuntarily, rescuing me from yet another nightmare. I peeled my cheek from the damp pillow, ears still ringing from the whine of an engine that miraculously hadn’t stalled out upon impact.

It was happening again—fact and fiction bleeding together and leaving me in a strange state of surrealness.

One of the hospital psychologists had recommended moving around to shorten the episode and rouse my mind back to the present. I slowly sat up and blinked, hoping to clear my vision, but the dense fog of smoke remained—the crumpled black frame of the convertible still so close I could almost touch it.

Reality told me it wasn’t there and that I was safe in my bed at True North, but the nightmare crudely spliced in by my brain begged to differ. I squeezed my eyes shut and fought against the rising tide of panic with each suffocating moment that passed.

The dreams were different every time too. In one, I was still behind the wheel, repeatedly stomping on a brake pedal that no longer worked. In another, the radio stations were changing on their own. It made it virtually impossible to know how much, if any, of what I saw was rooted in reality.

I craved answers but delving into my subconscious for clues only left my mind feeling chaotic, imagining people who weren’t there.

People who couldn’t possibly have been there.

A brief knock at the door saved me from speculating on the matter further, and I cracked one eye open, relieved to find my hospital room had returned to its normal state. It took several seconds more to rid my mind of the haunting images and slow my racing heart.

It only hurts if you let it…

“Good morning, Ariana,” Tsega called as she entered the room, her lips curving up in a wide smile.

I returned the gesture with a small wave, the closest I could get to actual communication for the time being.

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