Poseidia (2 page)

“I sensed you wanted to survive, and not perish at the bottom of the ocean for
crabs to feed on,” she reasoned.

“How? I don’t understand. What am I?”
My throat tightened.

“In time
, you’ll learn,” she whispered, again lowering her voice, and slowing her words.

Resistant to the manipulation, I yelled,
“What have I turned into? Please undo it.” Nearly hyperventilating, my anxiety level skyrocketed—a full-blown panic attack taking over. I needed to calm myself.
Breathe. Do your yoga breathing. Count to ten, it’s okay. It’ll be all right. You can handle anything
.

“We cannot undo it. The only
options were to do this, or let you die. Given the choices, we didn’t foresee an objection,” she justified, trying to pet my arm.

“Y
ou should have let me die,” I snapped, knocking her hand away from me.

“
You don’t mean that.” Hurt evident on her face, as if I’d burned her.

Taking a few deep breaths, I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
No, I don’t mean it.
“I’m just confused.”
Let the emotion pass, then you can think more clearly
. My throat constricted again, causing me to cough, and my voice grew hoarse. “I’m thirsty—may I have something to drink? You do have water, right?” My overwhelmed mind needed a minute to think.

“
Of course, I’ll get you some water. Are you hungry at all? It has been some time since you’ve eaten, although we did feed you during your time in the healing tank. You must be starving.”

“I don’t think I can eat anything
right now.” Another coughing spell shook me.

“I’ll be right back
, then.” She stepped out of the open doorway.

After examining
my arms again, I threw back the blankets, and lifted the white gown I wore—the same strange bumps decorated me from hip to toe. Sitting up, I slipped my legs over the side of the bed. The moment I moved, dizziness overcame me and vertigo forced me back down.

The color of my skin and lines of bumps were
the only noticeable differences; although monumental, still something of a relief. A mirror would give me a better overall picture of the physical changes.

She returned
with a glass of water and I drank, gulping it all down. It tasted pure and clean, but heavy with minerals—definitely different. But it did its job and refreshed my mouth, the coughing spells cooperatively subsided for the moment.

As my throat cleared, I glanced up at her, her eyes entranc
ing me. I admit—she had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen. Larger-than-normal irises transmitted the intelligence of an old soul. A tickle at the back of my mind said I knew her, a strange yet fleeting sense of déjà vu.

I shook my head to clear it and
pelted her with the same questions repeatedly, grilling her to the point of irritation. My mind simply did not comprehend the entirety of what happened. She gave me the same tight-lipped answers with no indication she was lying. Each time I asked about my baby, she changed the subject. Frustrating, but to her credit my pregnancy was the only question she directly avoided.
Does she think I won’t notice?

Thanks to Lily’s answers, I had two clear bits of information: I was somewhere in the sea and I wasn’t human anymore.

“W
hen can I go home?” I repeated for the third time, staring up at the lustrous seashell-covered ceiling, now anticipating the same reply. I guess I thought if I asked it enough, she would change her answer.

“Your home is with us now,” she
replied for the third time, patiently.

S
oft blue lighting shown through the walls, creating an eerie, yet peaceful, glow. I begrudgingly resisted this reality. “No, you don’t mean that. I have to go home. I have a job—two, in fact. I don’t want to lose them. I need them now more than ever. And I need to report what David did to the police. He won’t get away with this and… I want to go home.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

In my dream world, I was still pregnant and trying to justify David’s actions. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t completely whole anymore.

“I’m sorry, it’s forbidden for you to return. It’s too dangerous, for you, and for us. Your
presence here must remain a secret from the outside world. No human knows of our existence, and we intend to keep it that way. We took a monumental risk when we saved you.”

She’s serious, isn’t she?

“You’re kidding right?” I took a deep breath. The idea of staying here hit me like a punch in the gut, as if someone reached out of the pit of hell, gripped my heart, and squeezed.

“We
’ve given you a new life,” she pleaded, as if she’d expected instant acceptance and couldn’t understand my resistance.

My brain refused to comprehend the depth of the situation. I told myself it must be a dream, I would wake up, and everything would be back to normal.
Yes… denial
.
Close your eyes and count to ten.

One, two, three…

Don’t open your eyes and it will go away.

Four, five, six. Keep breathing. I am home. Seven, eight, nine. I am calm and serene. I am not crazy. I am not dead. At least
, I don’t think I’m dead.

The last thought brought me out of my countdown, and I
yelped, “Ten.” No, I didn’t want to be dead. That I knew for sure.
Remember, you’re alive—this is your second chance.

“Ten what?” she asked.

“I’m trying to convince myself I’m not crazy,” I qualified, smoothing the blankets down over me.

“By saying ten?”

“By counting to ten in my head. It helps me relax and regain control of anxiety,” I revealed.

“I assure you, you’re not crazy. Nothing showed up in your scans, however perhaps we missed it. I can call Lucas and get him back in here and have him check your brain again,” she
considered.

I’m crazy. I have to be. There is no other logical explanation.

“Maybe I’m having some kind of schizophrenic break. These kinds of mental breakdowns happen. I took a class about it three years ago, my first semester in college,” I deduced, feeling more calm in having arrived at a viable explanation.

“
We know it will be hard for you, but in time you will adjust and grow to love it here.”

“I don’t think so
!” I laughed.
Love it here?

“You’ll learn
our way of life. It’ll take time for you to become acquainted with our world, of course. That’s my job as your guide. I’ll do my best to help you transition.”

I laughed louder
, my nervous tic taking over.

Lily
tilted her head, obviously confused by my outburst.

My laughter turned to tears
, back to laughs, and then hiccups. My stomach grumbled loudly—I guess I was hungry. And I needed to use the bathroom. I glanced around the room and decided the closed door off to the left had to be one.
Whoever these people were, they had to have the basics, right? Go along with the hallucination and it will wear off.

“
Bathroom? Can I have some privacy?” I pointed to the closed door.

“Of course
, I’ll be back soon,” she said. Lily walked toward the open door, but stopped in front of the bathroom. She waved her hand over a small area and the pocket door silently slid into the wall. Then she walked through the main doorway, repeated the motion, and another door slid out of the wall, closing the open doorway.

Throwing
back the covers, I sat up, and once again slid my legs over the side of the bed. The floors were reddish in color, and seemed to be made of a clay material. I slowly stood, thankful I didn’t have the same vertigo as before. When my feet touched the floor, it felt cool and had a bumpy texture, resembling sand mixed into paint—yet soft, cushioned so my feet slightly sunk in.

I tiptoed across the floor
—I don’t know why—it was pure instinct being in a strange place. As I walked toward the bathroom, I looked down, and saw I left slight footprints behind me, which quickly vanished.
Strange.

W
hen I looked through the open door, I let out a sigh of relief. It was a bathroom, but different than any I’d ever seen. A huge bathtub, filled with steaming jetted water lined the far wall, built into the floor. Ten people could have fit in it—tub being entirely the wrong word for something so enormous and deep.

Jewels
, similar to the ones worn by the woman, only bigger, bordered the jacuzzi, covering the entirety of the far wall. I wanted to feel them but I would have to walk, or swim for all I knew, through the steaming water to reach the ornate trim.

I stepped into the room and as I did the door slid shut behind me. It startled me and I jumped
, propelling me toward the tub, the only thing visible in the room. But when I moved, the wall to the right opened up, and a sink spanning the length of the wall slid out. Water streamed from of the sides of the sink, as a fountain would.

Greedily,
I dashed to it, cupped the water, and drank, gulping until I coughed and gagged. What she’d given me before wasn’t enough.

Leaning
my head down into the sink, I splashed water on my face. The bite of the icy water felt incredibly real as it touched my skin. No mirrors hung on the walls, but the same shimmering seashell material covered them. As I looked up over the sink, I saw my reflection in the shiny surface of the wall and let out a yelp. I closed my eyes and slapped my face a few times.

It
seemed real, but
I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Ouch
. I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself.
No, I want to live in denial.

S
lowly, opening my eyes again, I reached my hand out to touch the wall. As I did, it changed and became a more effective mirror. My reflection became clear and I staggered into the wall behind me. Shocked, I tiptoed back, and leaned in close.

It was, in fact, me.

It feels real.

I
stared at my eyes for an eternity. The same sea-green orbs I’d seen in the mirror for the past two and a half decades looked back at me—but my irises were larger in diameter, similar to Lily’s. I leaned in so close to the mirror my breath fogged it up. Taking my hand, I wiped it clear, and examined the rest of my face.

Would a halluc
ination be so vivid?

My skin was shocking
and I couldn’t grasp how they did this. It was now a rainbow of colors, iridescent as it changed with my movement.

How is this possible? A DNA infusion?

My long, wavy light-brown hair had grown at least six inches in length while I was unconscious. It now reached my waist, and natural highlights danced even in the low light.

I’m… beautiful, now.

I dropped the gown I wore to the floor and observed my body in the mirror. My mouth hung open in shock and the blood drained from my head. To keep from falling, I grabbed onto the edge of the sink. Weakness drained me as my muscles quivered and twitched, protesting this much movement.

Regaining a bit of strength,
I brought my arm out in front of me. The bumps on my skin were about the diameter of a pea and rose slightly above the surface. Each bump was less than a millimeter apart and formed lines. They ran up and down my arms in three lines, branching out when they met my shoulders, and continuing down my back and the outside of my legs, all the way to the end of my pinky toe and two neighbors.

I braced myself on the edge of the sink and turned my body from side to side looking at the bumps.

Wait
—
what is… that?

I twisted my torso and lifted my arms. Slits appeared below my armpits. When I lowered my arms they were almost invisible, and I would have missed them
had I not been scrutinizing every inch of my body.

I hyperventilated.
What have they done to me? None of this makes any sense.

Alien.
Aliens have kidnapped me and they are going to experiment and—no, it makes more sense this is a hallucination. Mushrooms do this sort of reality distortion, right?

I stepped
back to get a fuller view, and noticed I was much slimmer than I’d ever been, almost gaunt. My hands searched for my pooch belly where my baby had lived and found only a sunken-in abdomen.
The baby
? My baby? A void, where the baby had lived, now a gaping hole in my soul. I knew by instinct, my unborn child was gone. If I had died, I’m sure he or she had too.

A new level of grief pierced my heart, knocked the breath out of me, and I dropped to the floor.
I knelt and rocked back and forth. My body convulsed, trying to stifle the trauma.

My throat raw
, I eventually stilled from exhaustion and closed my eyes, counting, very slowly, to ten. I got up from the floor and leaned against the sink. My eyes reluctantly wandered back to my reflection and I stared at myself, taking in all the changes.

I am still me, no matter how many drugs David has pumped into me. No matter where I am, and
who I am with, I am me. I’ll deal with this. I’ll get a hold of reality, and come back to the real world. I will wake up from this dream.

G
et a grip, Anna, stay in control. Think logically. Think of the basics. If they won’t let me go home, then I’ll have to escape. What’s the best way to do that?

Aside from heartbreak,
weakness, and exhaustion, at the back of my senses, I felt strangely healthy. The pounding of my heart, a galloping horse in my chest, faster than I remembered, reminded me I was still alive.
Be grateful
. My mind cleared more each minute I was awake. Only physically weak muscles and stiffness lingered.

My mind is clear.
Wouldn’t all my thoughts be jumbled if I were medicated?

F
eelings of joy penetrated every cell of my body, in conflict with the depression tearing at my heart and empty womb. This new body would not allow me to be sad, but the loss of my baby tore my heart into shreds.

If this is real, I have to grieve
.

The depth of my loss pulled at me. Feeling happy would be a betrayal.
Having a baby and a family with David was my dream. I’ve lost that. I want to be sad. Be sad, darn it.

What if I had kept the baby a secret from him longer?
Would I still be here?
Somewhere deep inside of me I knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. Convulsions racked my body again.

“
Everything happens for a reason,” was the positive dribble I used to believe in. Before I died. Before my boyfriend killed me.
David, how could you do this? You killed our baby.

You will pay for this, if it’s the last thing I do—you will pay.

To stay in my denial, and believe this was a hallucination, was self-preservation 101. I had to believe it, because believing anything else—believing what they said—was pure insanity.

My mind formulated many questions to ask, and my usual impatience grew the more I thought.
I need the basics until I can think of a plan.

Fool them,
my brain urged. If I was in a psyche ward, fool them. Let them believe, and get comfortable with, my compliance.

But how?

I drank again from the fountain of water.
I need time to think
.

Clothing?
Where are my clothes?
My hand went to my neck.
My locket, where is it? Think. Remember.

T
urning my attention to my surroundings, I explored the rest of the huge room. I ran my hand over the walls to see if anything else would change or pop out. It did. A small door slid open and a tiny room the size of a closet appeared. Inside was a small circular bowl, with a soft seat, sitting only a few inches off the ground.
Is that their toilet? Ugh, that does not look comfortable.
As I stepped back from it, the door slid closed and blended into the wall. My bladder pointedly reminded me I needed to use it, comfortable or not, so I did.

I searched the rest of the
room for hidden doors. Another one slid open, and inside I found some toiletries, towels, and more gowns similar to the one I wore.