by Rachel Wells
Table of Contents
Slipping Into Darkness
Every step Sharon took squelched with her feet swollen by water and nibbled on by fish. When she came to a standstill, water pooled around her feet in a dark, dirty puddle. Algae floated along the top of it as though a stagnant cesspool formed long ago and sat for weeks before Sharon stepped in it, disturbing the debris. She opened her mouth and water of a similar dark color poured out. The flow slowed, but never really stopped. Her mouth hung open and water dribbled out as though she suffered from excessive drooling. The teeth that remained in their slots along her gum line wiggled and swayed with the push of the water and stale air. Like rocks standing for too long along a shoreline, algae crawled up and claimed the dirty ivory of each tooth in unique sprawls of gray and green. One tooth gave way in the wake of the slimy mixture of lake water and saliva. It slipped out of its place and dribbled down her chin before falling on her front and continuing like a stick caught up in a river. At last it clinked down to the ground, making a small plink! in the water below. Then, her head—now one more tooth short—cocked to the side of its own accord, and the stretched side of her neck tore a little. The flesh made a wet tearing sound as it ripped open to reveal discolored vocal cords. More water than blood leaked from the widening gap; the longer her head remained to one side, the more the skin ripped and the more her head tilted. The blood that did appear oozed instead of spouting or dripping as one would expect from a fresh neck wound. It was thick and black like tar, the consistency matching that of molasses. Sharon opened her mouth wider, with more intent. She looked like she might say something, but when sound passed her peeling lips, words could not be made out. A desperate gurgling gushed forth from rotting lungs. Water continued to flow from her mouth, but spurted out in a wider spray any time she forcefully emitted a noise. The puddle at her feet conquered more ground the more time she remained stationary. All the leaking fluid grouped beneath her and expanded the puddle to a pool to a flood. Unable to form words or attach meaning to her gurgles and moans, Sharon shut her mouth. Along with ceasing her own sounds, she swallowed up the sounds of the room in which she stood. It was similar to the eerie quiet of a house during a power outage. Without the familiar electrical buzz in the air, a deep seated unease was unavoidable in regards to the sudden stillness. Sharon’s mouth remained closed as she righted her head upon her shoulders. The skin of her neck pulled apart by her previous movements squished back together. Water spritzed out in escape while the blood was unwillingly pushed from the now sealed wound. It clung along the edges with impressive determination and made an ugly, visible seam. The black blood stood out against a background of purple, blue, and gray skin. Her eyes fell to look downward. The whites were yellowed and bloodshot with deep purple veins in place of red ones. She lifted her arms with great difficulty. Her joints creaked as she manipulated them. It sounded like the water had rusted them while rotting the rest of her. Higher pitched creaks came from her hands when she tried to move the more intricate joints located there. She bent them after a brief struggle so they formed claws that met mid-sternum, at the tip, where the flesh was soft and penetrable. Fish and other lake dwellers had nibbled the tips of her fingers so bone poked through to the surface. They sunk into her molting skin with ease. Rather than grip the edges of her ribs and struggle further with her delicate joints, Sharon yanked her arms outward. This gesture opened her chest up with a horrible tearing from the skin and an overpowering crunching of the bones within. Her ribs wrenched apart in a reverse blood eagle. Blackened lungs were now visible, punctured with tiny holes that spilled out water and small debris. Her stomach burst, and from it poured forth a batch of putrid water and sludge. The gunky mixture dropped down and added to the water below, which crept up Sharon’s ankles in depth. From the bottom of her opened gut a dying dish flopped out and splashed when it landed in front of her. It flipped about feebly in the muddied waters before it stilled and floated away, void of life. Upon further inspection, the fish appeared partially digested with some of its distinct needle-like bones poking through shedding scales lacking any shine. It no longer moved, but the eye facing upward as it floated away took in the room around it. The good eye shone with a consciousness trapped in a corpse. Then it sunk without warning and disappeared from sight as though swallowed by something below. Sharon opened her mouth again. This time, along with the water, a horrible groan saturated the air. Air whistled through the holes in her visible lungs as it made its way upward, toward her mouth, to escape again. There was no break in her wail for intake of breath because of this continuous cycle. It just kept going, and going... The sound filled the room like a gas in an airtight chamber. It built up; the pressure increasing to an unbearable degree. She kept screaming, though. Her yellow eyes bugged out of her head and her mottled purple tongue swelled. There were sores dotted along the surface that burst with thick pus. Still, she screamed. Her heart—formerly hidden behind the sad, deflated sacks that used to breathe life into Sharon—could be seen now. The muscle verged between purple and black in color, with heavy black veins carved into the sides. It did not beat. With the growing pressure, it burst in a pathetic pop! and the same tar-like substance that stained her neck seeped out from the newly formed hole. It emptied itself into space left by her burst stomach. Sharon’s limbs were the last thing of hers to swell. She followed the traditional month-long decomposition of a waterlogged corpse in seconds. The sound kept filling the room from between her splitting lips. She was going to burst; she was going to fly apart and spread her decay, filth, and death like an atom bomb. Still, she screamed.
For an instant, when Sharon burst in the dream, Sadie felt dead. It was as though her mind had been culled of all thought and her soul had been scraped from within her. She was hollow, but still aware of the terrible feeling of emptiness and complete nonexistence. Paralyzed, her heart stopped and her lungs refused any air. It was a dark and cold oblivion.
Like the snipping of a taught thread, Sadie felt an immense pressure lift from her corpse without warning. Air forced its way back down her throat to fill her lungs while her heart beat rapidly, as though making up for the missed beats. Her muscles jerked so hard that her hand flew to the side and knocked her phone from the nearby bedside table. Her legs kicked in opposite directions, which succeeded in tangling Sadie’s legs amidst the sheets and blankets. Regaining control of her body, Sadie sat up and clutched at her chest where her heart sped. She gasped and choked on air that felt foreign and lumpy. Each rapid exhale carried a whispered expletive with it. “Fuck, shit... fuck!” Panic gripped her even as her breath leveled out and her heart rate slowed. She spoke louder now, “Fuck!” The dream was more intense than it had been the past five nights. Sharon’s screams through Sadie’s subconscious grew louder and more desperate. They carried more weight in the space of Sadie’s head while she dreamt. This was the first time she felt physically affected by it. She assumed it was trauma working itself out while she slept. Sadie did not allow what had happened to take over her life; but it was more difficult with the growing insistence of the dream. Worse was the feeling that she was not alone in her nightly experiences.
She knew of the pending mayhem before her phone blew up with messages. They were from the three other girls present the night of the incident, which took place one year ago yesterday. They had to meet, according to Cheryl. It was urgent. Sadie rolled her eyes while she opened the lock screen and read the message. Of course, for significance, they would meet where it had happened. That, too, had been Cheryl’s idea. She wrote with some authority, quoting from Google searches on “dreams and what they mean” as though she had conducted the research herself. Sadie’s face screwed into a scowl. Cheryl maintained a steady bad habit of
pushing Sadie’s buttons in all the wrong ways, on all the wrong days. The messages she read now confirmed for Sadie that Cheryl had always been the friend in the group who, if necessary, they could do without. Having worked herself and the other girls—Lisa and Heather—into a panic, though, Sadie could not risk cutting her loose now. She saw this as a containment situation versus a concealment situation. Technically, there was nothing to hide. It was all about keeping a tight lid on the loosest jars and letting the story work for them. In her mind, Sadie had her shit locked down. Aside from the continuous dreaming, she was fine. Her worries sourced from Cheryl’s tendency to embellish through storytelling and Lisa’s reputation for being fragile in both body and mind. Contain those two, and the rest would fall neatly into place and fade away or get re-written like any bad or unwanted memory.
~ ~ ~
“When she speaks, she leaks.” Sadie snickered to herself after muttering this. A rock left her hand with an added spin of agitation. They were all expectedly late, but she was still annoyed by it. She picked up another flat rock and tossed it in the air a few times to test the weight of it. It felt too small to throw far enough to relieve any of her anger. She let it fall to the ground instead of catching it this time. Sadie looked to her left and saw a much heftier stone. She bent at the knees to lift it with both hands. This one felt right. She hoisted it above and behind her head and cried out when she launched the rock forward. It travelled far enough that the resulting splash did not reach Sadie’s cropped leggings. Compared to the previous pebble in her hand, the latter was a much better choice to match her mood. Sadie smiled with bitterness as the ripples faded outward from the entry point of the rock. The satisfaction of the splash faded along with the ripples. She was so tired of managing everyone else’s bullshit. This meeting was a pointless venture in superstition and Cheryl’s peace of mind.
Cheryl had been the first to broach the subject of Sharon’s spiritual wellbeing two weeks after her death. After being shut down by Sadie then and cut off at the start of every question afterwards, she had not mentioned it aloud since. In her own mind, though, the idea of Sharon stuck in a state of unrest had percolated and brewed into something looming with terrible, implied consequences. Sadie had spent a year forgetting all the dangerous details of the truth in contrast to Cheryl’s year spent in remembrance of them. The recurring nature of the shared dreams in context with their content offered a valid excuse for her to talk about Sharon out in the open without overt fear of Sadie’s wrath.
Sadie was amazed now that Cheryl had not demanded they meet at night, at the exact hour of Sharon’s death in addition to meeting at the beach. “Not that any of us were paying attention to the time...”
~ ~ ~
There was a first and a last time for everything. For Sharon, the first and the last conspired to meet on the same night with a most unfortunate outcome.
It was like the time the five of them broke their cigarette virginity together. Incidentally, that was also a first and a last for Sharon. They met in the evening and huddled on the shore without jackets, favoring the warmth that came off of each other in contrast to the soft lake breeze. Tonight was just another step up the ladder in relation to their teenage experimentation.
The lagoon remained their traditional meeting place by way of convenience. It was within walking distance of each of their houses, Sadie’s being the furthest away. Sometimes, she chose to drive to the shore instead making the fifteen minute journey by foot. Tonight, tired from an hour of detention after school and homework after that, Sadie opted to take the car. Its absence would not be noticed or of concern to Sadie’s parents. Since the ninth grade, they assumed that between Heather, Lisa, Cheryl, and Sharon’s nearby houses, they would be able to locate their daughter without much difficulty. The same easygoing nature graced the parents of the other four girls, as well. Without any effort on their part, the girls were handed an instant alibi at the same time parties and other temptations were introduced into their young lives. This invaluable gift would be put to good use tonight.
Sadie picked up Lisa and Heather on the way to the lagoon. They both had a ten minute walk ahead of them without a ride. Cheryl and Sharon walked from the opposite direction and, between them, had less than five minutes of travel time. In the car, the three girls were uncharacteristically silent and held their tongues until they arrived at the edge of the rock shore and exited the car.
Opening the door released a wave of tension and nervous excitement, held in by each of the girls on the ride over. Wide grins adorned each of their faces after slamming the car doors shut and finding their footing on the pebbles that made up the shore. Their smiles expanded when Heather produced a small plastic baggie with three joints lining the bottom of it. “Better than a cigarette in at least one way, right?” Heather jostled the bag up and down while following the pattern with her eyebrows. “And...” she reached into her other pocket for another, smaller plastic baggie. This one contained five small, baby blue pills. She shook this bag with less vigor than the first, and toned down the rise and fall of her eyebrows to match. Her giddiness was outmatched by Lisa’s, who bounced on the balls of her feet while they waited for the arrival of Cheryl and Sharon before opening either bag.
Their figures soon came into focus as they emerged from one of the several trails leading away from the lagoon and back toward various areas of town. The dress Sharon wore bounced with each stride as she ran over to where the other three stood waiting. When she was one more pace away, she jumped and planted both feet next to Heather, springing up with the momentum of her landing. Before issuing any greeting, she held out her hands and waited for the delivery of her special request from Heather. Heather rewarded her with the smaller baggie of ecstasy, presenting it with a flourish. Sharon had a one caveat with regards to doing drugs: she did not smoke anything. Sharon refused to smoke again after her experience with their first shared cigarette. While the others experienced a few coughing fits before finding their rhythm, Sharon inhaled and promptly vomited as she exhaled. She made her declaration after a migraine the next day that she would never smoke again. When other substances became of interest to the girls, Sadie emphasized the loophole in Sharon’s vow that could be provided by pills. In their town, ecstasy was as common as weed. Because of this, no extra steps were involved in filling Sharon’s request for their evening of experimentation.
She opened the baggie without ceremony or wait and held it out to Sadie. “I think we should do this properly and have you place it on my tongue like I’m royalty.” She winked at Sadie while the bag remained extended towards her.
In appreciation of her rookie level enthusiasm, Sadie did as Sharon had requested. She dipped her finger into the bag and plucked out one of the tabs of ecstasy, making a big show if it. Then, she placed it with some ceremony on the tip of her extended tongue. The pill had a tiny butterfly stamped on the top of it. It disappeared along with Sharon’s tongue back into her mouth to be dissolved. The small baggie with four pills remaining in it was zipped closed. It then disappeared into the left, front pocket of Sharon’s dress. The four pills left were intended for the rest of her friends, but they wanted to burn through a joint or two to get in the mood before following Sharon down the rabbit hole.
The additional cost of the pills was worth it judging by Sharon’s smile. She did not say a word after closing her mouth, but rather took off running down the length of the rocky shore in the slim runners she paired with her dress. She stopped when she reached the barrier of boulders outlining the border between the beach and the forest trails. Sharon leapt up with her arms spread wide and landed atop the nearest rock. She spun so she faced her four friends, still staring off after her. There were no words for how Sharon felt, so she tilted her head back and laughed until her sides complained. There was a weightless freedom coursing through her mind and body. She was an addict on the spot. The jump down from her castle felt long and slow, but the landing soft. Her arms remained outstretched as she spun on he
r toes with her eyes open. The moon and stars above spun with her until they blurred and became target lines streaking through the sky surrounding a bright bull’s-eye. Even though she stopped, the sky continued to spin a target above her. She still felt dizzy, but she started the walk back down the beach to her friends, who blurred as the sky had. As she moved closer, their figures straightened, but the edges of her vision remained soft. It was like a pastel border pressed against a clear sketch. A bright smile remained as Sharon enjoyed the numbing of her limbs while her heart sped up in her chest. The contradiction in sensations made her lightheaded, but she reveled in the gentle sway taken on by her body as she moved.
Sharon was still twenty feet down the beach when Sadie lit up the first of three joints from Heather’s pocket. Heather’s brother was their connection for both party favors. Though, in truth, they could have gone to any number of boys staked out in the back parking lot of the high school during the day. The girls on the shore remained turned inward, passing the joint around in the traditional Western puff-puff-pass method. Everyone giggled when one of them coughed and applauded when Sadie managed to blow several consecutive smoke rings.
Amidst their own trips, none of the girls continued to pay attention to Sharon. She continued to move towards them, although, she tread without the same sense of direction. Still fifteen feet out, she veered from her previous course toward the edge of the water.
Given the manmade nature of the pool, there were no currents or waves. The water remained perfectly still up until Sharon’s feet—missing the protection of their shoes and socks by this point—dipped in and sent ripples fanning out across the surface. Sharon wiggled her toes and felt the water rush between each one. Her cluster of friends forgotten, Sharon followed the pleasant feeling of cool water on her skin. She wandered out so that more of her legs were consumed before she paused to look for the bull’s-eye of a moon in the sky. It called to her with a supernatural pull, which she followed without a word. The water felt cool, but welcoming as Sharon drifted out further out into the lake.