Depths (6 page)

Her wavy black hair tickled my nose and faint scents
of vanilla drifted into my nostrils. It made me feel warm. The
grass was making my arms and head itch so I shifted a little. She
stirred in her sleep and slowly lifted her head up. Deep brown eyes
blinked from the sun and finally focused their gaze straight into
my own. She smiled and I smiled back. Her expression grew somber
and I could sense she was reading my mind. She apparently didn't
like what she saw. She didn't move her lips but I could hear
her.

You know that you're going to kill yourself if you
keep this up right?

I knew. I nodded my head.

Please stop. Please.

I knew I couldn't so I shook my head. Tears began
welling up in her eyes. She reached out and put her hand against my
face, gently stroking it.

If anything happened to you, I would feel
responsible. You can't put me through that... If you won't stop for
yourself, at least stop for me. Please?

She didn't understand. She
couldn
’
t
. I was beyond stopping. I couldn't
ever go back. She buried her face in my chest, sobbing. My heart
broke as her tears flowed. I pulled her closer, placing my hand on
the back of her head, gently running my fingers through her wavy
hair. She started shivering. I could feel how cold she was through
her clothing.

Please stop... I'm so cold. Don't you care?

I didn't know how to tell her how sorry I was. I
just pressed her tighter to me, hoping to warm her. Her fingers
were ice against my face and she shakily lifted her head from my
chest. Frost had formed on her eyelashes, little frozen rivers of
tears streaked her face, smearing the little makeup she wore.

The bright clear blue skies had disappeared,
completely gone and replaced with blackness. Each individual blade
of grass dug into me through my clothes, they pierced my flesh and
blood seeped out, warming the grass around me. Ironically, the
bleeding was helping me get more comfortable.

Please stop. I'm so cold babe...

I always liked when she called me that.

Please...

Her voice faded into the openness that now
surrounded us. Sunken in eyes longingly gazed into infinity, her
chocolate irises contrasted starkly against her pale white face. I
moved my hand up to my face, starting to go numb from the chill of
her fingers, and placed it over her own hand.

I squeezed her hand tight, vainly attempting to
transfer some warmth back to her, and instead heard a loud snap.
She moved her eyes to the spot where her hand was and they opened
wide. Her fingers had snapped off from her hand and now lay in the
palm of mine. I looked back to her and she opened her mouth to
scream but no sound came out. Fissures formed along her face,
spreading from where her top and bottom lip met, splitting her face
in two. The sickening crunch reverberated from her entire body,
completely frozen solid, fracturing from within until she shattered
in my arms. Crystals of ice lay where she had just been a minute
ago, her fingers still in the palm of my hand.

My tears froze instantly and I rolled out from
underneath what was left of her broken body. The only thing even
recognizable was the top of her face just above her nose, her eyes
still frozen in horror at the transformation she had undergone just
moments before.

I bolted upright, heart pounding. There was fabric
under my hand. My ceiling replaced the black, open, endless space.
I was in my living room. I looked around to make sure everything
was as it should be. My heart started slowing down until I realized
I was shivering and could see my breath.

My heart started beating much faster than
before.

I shook uncontrollably from the frigid climate in my
house. My fingers were already a light shade of blue. I rubbed them
together and leapt up from the couch towards the thermostat down
the hallway.

Door slams shut, endless mirrors...

The images flashed into my head and I felt dizzy
again. I steadied myself on the wall to keep from falling. It felt
like ice. With shaking hands I inspected the thermostat. 75
degrees? I don't think so. I tapped on it but nothing happened. I
went into my bedroom and looked through my closet for a jacket.
Various articles of clothing were scattered all about, nothing was
in order. Just like everything else. I knocked clothes hangers
aside frantically, searching for something to fight the cold. It
pierced me to my core, nipping at my exposed skin, making it
painful to even touch anything. It must be below freezing. My teeth
chattered and I stepped over the threshold into the closet to look
for anything that would help with the cold.

A long-sleeve shirt. That works I guess. I removed
it from the hanger and I was about to put it over my head, but the
fabric started to droop through my fingers like putty. It stretched
and stretched the more I tried to grab at it, finally hitting the
floor with a wet plopping sound. I let the rest of the goop fall
from my hands, dumbstruck. I was too cold to process what had just
happened though, I would deal with it later so I reached for the
next shirt I saw, watching again as it turned into goop faster than
the first.

Creeeooooooooocccccshhheerrrrrr!!!!!!!!!

The closet
door slammed shut in my face.
It was pitch black but I could feel the different
shirts and pants melting from their hangers onto me like taffy,
dripping down my shoulders and running down my arms. I slammed my
fist into the door hoping to break through but it was useless. The
cold made the pain ten times worse and I was pretty sure I split my
knuckle, not that I could see that though.

The walls creaked and I turned my back to the door.
The doughy mess of what was once my clothes rose over my ankles and
up my legs. It was difficult to move through, what I imagined
quicksand would be. The clothes that hadn't fallen from their
hangers were getting pushed onto my face. It took me a moment to
realize it at first, but the walls were closing in.

It took a great deal of effort but
I was able to turn to face the door again, desperately bashing it
with my fists to no avail. The walls closed in more and more,
pushing the sludge of clothes up past my knees. I shoved myself
into the door with my shoulders with everything I had but it
wouldn
’
t give.

A crushing weight on the top of my skull let me know
the ceiling was coming down as well. I ducked down but couldn't go
very far, the clothes were already chest high. In a last ditch
attempt, I tilted my neck up, my cheek pressed against the
collapsing ceiling and struggled to keep my head above the muck,
until at last I couldn't breathe.

The scent of stale laundry filled my nose and mouth
and the pressure from the walls began crushing my bones. My spine
was compacted and shot through my back and out the top of my neck.
My head popped like a grape in between two fingers.

My a r m s f o l d e
d i n o n t h e m s e l v e s . . . . .. . . . . . .
…

Coffee table. Television. Television stand. Sofa.
Kitchen pantry. Sink. Refrigerator. Details details details details
details details. I ticked off each one, rummaging through my memory
to make sure the images I saw matched correctly.

I had fallen off the couch and my head hurt,
probably hit the edge of the coffee table. I felt the top of my
head and winced as my fingers timidly rubbed the lump that had
already formed. The clock read 12:37 P.M. I had been out for almost
two hours. Adrenaline was still coursing through my body and my
limbs were trembling.

What was happening to me?

My body felt like it had gone through battle, I was
exhausted. Imaginary weights were strapped to my arms and legs and
even breathing was a chore. I picked myself up from the floor,
cramped aching muscles screaming at me for making them work.

I put one foot in front of the other and lost
balance, falling into a heap on the floor. I stayed there for a
moment, dazed, in pain, and feeling utterly helpless. I managed to
pull myself onto my hands and knees and crawled down the hallway.
It stretched on and on, seeming to get longer and longer as I
crawled on my path. It took me a second to notice the blood trail
my hands and knees were making as I crawled over the glass, each
time I set a hand on it, cracks formed and the glass dug into me
like razors. I couldn't hardly keep pressing on from the...

No. There was no glass. Hallways
aren
’
t made from glass
dammit
.

I stopped and half rolled into a
seated position against the wall. I turned both palms up to my face
to make sure there was no blood. Before I even knew it, tears were
running down my face and I pressed my hands to my eyes trying to
stop the streams from flowing. I barreled over, shaking, and I
slammed my fists into the ground, coughing and crying and
coughing
from
crying. I don't remember the last time I cried. I didn't even
think I had ever cried at all.

When I finished, I was completely
drained. I just sat there, head against the wall, unable to move
and not even wanting to. I couldn't remember what I was even trying
to do when I began making my way down the hall. What was it...? I
don't know. It took me a minute to even remember what day it was.
Friday. It was Friday. And today I was supposed to meet
her
at... What time?
Fuck! Trying to navigate my memory was like
tryingtoreadasentencewithnopuctuationorbreaksorstartsorstopsanditjustranonandonlikeatangledmessofnonsensethaticouldntevenbegintosortoutifitriedij
ust felt like I was running in circles, never moving forward,
passing by familiar scenery but never able to place where I had
seen it from.

Two! Two o' clock is when I was
supposed to meet
her
. What time was it? I couldn't see the clock from my spot in
the hallway. With the last bit of energy I had, I crawled to my
room on my hands and knees and pulled myself over to my nightstand
to prop myself up. The clock read 1:03 P.M.

I had enough time to take a shower
and clean myself up a bit before I had to meet her. I couldn't
let
her
see me
like this. She thought she was worried before...

Just you wait...

I was going to walk to my closet and look for
something to wear, but the memory of being crushed by the walls in
some sort of clothing goop, bones breaking, spine coming out from
the top of my neck, shins shooting through my knee cap, head being
crushed...

I closed my eyes and took a breath before going to
my dresser instead. I had a clean, plain navy-blue shirt in the top
drawer and a pair of black jeans in the middle drawer. Boxers in
the fourth drawer along with socks.

A shower would help. Showers always helped me clear
my head, if only for a bit, and the hot water would relax my aching
muscles.

I set my new clothes on the counter and turned the
faucet on in the tub, pulled the little hammer up on the faucet and
the water began spraying out of the shower head. I undressed and
stuck my hand under the water, satisfied that it was hot enough for
me, and stepped in. I liked my showers hot enough to the point of
turning my skin pink. It felt good inhaling the steam, and the
water rejuvenated my aching body as it ran over me. This was the
one place I truly felt relaxed. I felt safe in the shower for some
reason, I don't know why. It was like the world went away for a
while so I could just take a break and let my head slow down. I
don't even know how I drag myself out of the shower unless I've
stayed in so long the water was going cold on me. I never had the
motivation to leave a hot shower. I was warm, I was relaxed, I was
in my safe place. My head was quieter and everything just seemed
less important.

But I knew I couldn't stay long. I
had to meet her at two o' clock and it was after one when I had
gotten in. Dismally, I turned the knob off and stepped out. The
bathroom was filled with steam and it made the air thick. I grabbed
my towel and dried myself off. It really wasn't that fluffy of a
towel, I was going to have to get a new one. Say what you want, but
fluffy towels after a hot shower are one of life
’
s true treasures.

Boxers on, socks on, pull up pants, pull down shirt
and I'm dressed. I sat on top of the toilet seat lid, I could at
least savor the atmosphere of my safe place for a little while
longer. After a minute or two, I stood up and went to the mirror,
to brush my tangled hair down, and reached over to wipe the steam
off.

Clink!

I had knocked my toothbrush into the sink. I looked
down, picked it up and put it back in its place and tilted my head
back up to the mirror and saw my deformed, distorted face looking
back me. My hair had fallen out in clumps, my nose hooked downwards
and bulged out, my forehead was twice as wide as it normally is,
cheek bones jutting out like ledges, my right eye which was now a
deep dark brown instead of blue and sat about two inches lower than
my left on my face.

I stumbled backwards and looked again. My normal
face stared back at me. Confusion, anger and fear painted it.

“
Fuck!
”

I brushed my hair down hurriedly and left.

The light switch. Forgot to turn the light switch
off. I went back in and flicked it down.

Click!

I turned my back to leave again
and had the inescapable feeling of being watched.
It
’
s impossible to mistake it. I stood
motionless, sensing the disturbance in the air. Something was
moving
…
Behind me.