Echoes Of a Drowned Soul

The sunset laying before my eyes was painted with swirls of red, pink, and orange and blue hues. The waves were glistening in the sunlight; the sand sinking into my feet, in-between my toes, on my legs, and on the soles of my feet. The air grew heavy with heat, humid from the sun’s rays beating down on me. I close my eyes, 1, 2, 3, 4 open, 1, 2, 3, 4.

In this vast world full of hills, seas, mountains, and valleys, I’ve never felt so close to this world as now. Floating effortlessly above the sea, suspended in midair.

My fingers reach out, hovering.

How long have I been out here?

Out, I am. Out in the world, alone.

I am alone, as I stare at the sea, so salty, yet sweet.

Sweet for those under the surface, the leatherback turtles, lion’s mane jellyfish, and black-eyed squid.

Sweet for the little fish, the corals, and the ecosystem.

Salty for us humans who pollute, hunt, trap, and kill animals.

Under the sea, as peaceful as it may seem, lie deeper, darker secrets, some that the sea swallows up and drowns. Some that have the capability of murder. For us humans, there is no limit to what we can destroy. After all, the sky’s the limit, isn’t it?

“Wake up!” the sound comes blaring out of my ears. “It’s time for school. Wake up now!” I blink my eyes, and in that one moment of time, I’m sinking into my bed. My feet aren’t sandy; I’m not at the beach; I’m not alone.

When I arrive at my school, I take out my paper; with paint, I choose red, pink, orange, and blue hues, my brush dancing on the canvas as the artwork enfolds under my devouring eyes. My teacher appears behind me; she calls out to the class, the hushed whispers growing to a halt, “Class, on this hot, sunny day I have given you guys a break.”

“No, not a pop quiz,” a student yells from the back of a classroom.

“Don’t you worry, guys; there’s no pop quiz for today. I have rewarded your work with a trip to the beach. Remember, take sunscreen and hats.”

We go to the beach, the sand sinking into my feet, dragging me down, almost as it was trapping me in the underworld, almost like it was a way of the universe telling me that I belonged there.We gather in lines. Each of us rubbing the sunscreen on our arms, legs, feet and face.

I can smell the salt evaporating in my nose as I inch closer to the sea. My legs dragging beneath. I can taste this afternoon’s lunch, a stale sandwich. I find a seashell lying amongst a rock. With a sense of detachment running through my veins I pick the seashell and feel the crevices the bends, corners that form this artifact, each crack tells a story, a tale of history.

Our teacher sends us out into the open. We look around, excited to gather inspiration for our next art project. Something sinks up onto the surface, floating weightlessly. I rush over to the object. The object reveals itself as a bag. The blistering heat of the sun makes me light-headed; I go to the bag, yearning for a distraction from this mundane beach. I can’t resist the temptations, my curiosity intoxicating my mind, clouding my every thought. In the bag, there is a zipper that goes all the way from the bottom to the top. I try opening the zipper, but someone must’ve jammed it. After what feels like forever, I successfully rip off the last remnants of the zipper. My hands aching from all the tremendously hard work. At first glance, it looks normal, then everything forms together.

A body as white as the snow enfolds beneath my eyes. Eyes as blue as the ocean are frozen open. I unzip the bag, uncovering more bones sticking out of the shoulder, dislocated from the joints, dishevelled. As I stare at the body, it reeks. I stick out my finger, hovering over an open wound; I place my finger inside. My finger meeting my lips as it floats on my tongue. Metal, silver, steel. It couldn’t be, could it? Its blood, aged blood.

How long has this been here, waiting for me to discover it? I take a step back, the dream, my dream it is happening, the sand, the sky, it’s all the same, the taste of salt prickling my tongue. The sun beating down on me. It all feels too real. And yet, here I stand, my legs dissolved by the sea. The temperature isn’t nearly as warm; the sun hasn’t set, the clouds, covering the sky, are a canvas of mist. I sucked in a breath. I feel like I’m floating, my legs aren’t mine anymore, I feel numb, like I shouldn’t be here. Blackness pulls me into its never-ending void as everything starts growing darker around me.

After one blink, I’m back in a bed, well not in my bed that I can guarantee. Other beds were placed side by side, curtains draped amongst them. I look at my arm as a plastic tube winds all the way from my palm. Dust clings to my nose, old clothes, the smell of anti-septic. I feel a tingle in my nose, trying to sneeze, but nothing comes out. My mouth is covered with plastic. The gas mask placed over my nose and mouth. They had put me to sleep.

I go home, and wait for the next day, it feels like it will never come. The hours never seem to end. The minutes tick by slowly, almost as if the universe was trying to trap me in this one moment of time. My feet dart to the windows and my hands grabs the curtains as they open. The moon lies glowingly above me, the sky a blur of light and darkness. I find myself pulled by an invisible force, dragging me to my bed. My eyes shut mechanically as if I’m a robot, malfunctioning. Time passes by, and after a long night, the sun illuminates my room. A glow passes through me, it’s a new day, a new beginning. Everything is normal.

Normal, I hold on to the normality of my life as I find myself in front of my mirror. Who is the person laying below my eyes? My features are indistinguishable. It’s almost like yesterday never happened. Like the body I found lying on the beach was nothing but a figment of my imagination, to make me feel like my existence had a purpose in this world.

“Who am I?” a recording plays out in front of me, “Who is the person laying below my eyes?”

A flash passes through my body, as my legs beckon to the ground.

I try to get up, try to lift myself off the ground, but nothing happens. I’m stuck in this mould, I can’t move. Sickly glue suffocates me, pulling me down and down until it can’t anymore.

Poisonous ivy comes catapulting out of the ground, the thorny roots cutting my skin as it wraps around each leg. A Lazo intertwined over my stomach.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake me up.

Someone please get me out of this nightmare.

What decisions have I made that has led me towards my current position, if I went back in time knowing the outcome of what the future held, would I do the same things?

Would I have interacted more with the people in my class, maybe I could’ve made friends? Maybe I could have led a better life? A better life outside my mind. Outside my perception of reality.

Free.

Free that is from the ties that bind me.

Free from myself.