Four
912 Words
I was frozen, unable to move as the sand clung to my hands and legs. I fearfully watched the waves nice back and forth in the moonlight as I wondered how I had made it across town and onto the beach. The soft lull of the sea did nothing to calm my anxiety as I sat in the sand willing my body to move but it was in vain.
"Loretta."
I barely heard the rest of what they said as my vision was still fixated on the water. Who was with me in the dead of night?
"Loretta, are you okay?" The voice asked again, this time I felt them grab ahold of my shoulder and slightly shake it.
Blinking in surprise, I turned to face whoever had been calling me. Michael knelt next to me, concern filling his features as I came out of my daze.
"Loretta, what are you doing out here?"
"I- I don't know." I responded, fully aware that I was mere feet away from the ocean and I had no idea how I had gotten out of my bedroom, across town, and onto the beach without getting killed.
"Have you been drinking lately?" Michael asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the sand.
I shook my head, still trying to figure how I had gotten here. It was then that I realized I was soaking wet. Was my dream really a dream? What was Michael doing out here at night, alone?
"Come on, let's get you home." Michael stated, his blue eyes flashing their odd green color as he guided me away from the beach and into town.
*
The next morning, I awoke in my bed, the events of last night still playing in my mind's eye as I took a shower and got ready for the day. Why did I dream about Michael? What was I doing out on the beach? Why was Michael out there with me? What was that strange voice? Why was I wet?
A million questions swirled in my brain as I got dressed. Pulling my hair up in a pony tail, I made my way into the kitchen, silently praying my parents didn't know I mysteriously escaped the house last night.
"Good morning sleepyhead!" My dad called from the kitchen, his black hair was thinning and streaked in gray, much like mom's was.
"Good morning." I chirped, making my way into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. God knows I need it after the adventure of last night.
"How did you sleep?" Dad asked, turning towards me as I grabbed a mug from the cabinet.
"Okay." I said, pouring the dark liquid into the mug before adding a spoonful of sugar.
"Hmm." He hummed, "So, Michael came by early this morning to ask how you were."
Immediately I looked up, biting the inside of my cheek as I tried to think if what I should say.
"I didn't intentionally leave last night," I started, "I went to bed and then I woke up on the beach. But then I couldn't move, I was terrified."
"What do you mean? Did someone hurt you?" Alarm was written all over his face as he tried to figure out what I meant and I shook my head.
"No, nothing like that! I was and still am, terrified of the ocean."
I silently held my breath, waiting for his response but all I got was confusion, "Excuse me?"
"I-I'm afraid of the ocean. Did mom not tell you?" I paused, "I guess maybe not, I just told her yesterday."
"Why are you afraid of the ocean?" He asked, handing me a plate of eggs and bacon as we walked towards the dining room.
I watched as Dad waited patiently in front of me. I sighed and explained everything and I watched as he listened intently to everything I said just as Mom came into the room.
"So," He finally said, "What you're saying is that you nearly died and your brother and Caleb never told us!"
Um well, I guess I-"
"And when you nearly drowned, you associated that fear from nearly drowning into your fear of the ocean so then you decided it would be best to run away from your fear in hopes that you won't have to deal with it."
"Well, at first I couldn't handle being near it, the PTSD and flashbacks were too much. It's gotten better now. I don't get the flashbacks as much but it's something that takes time to heal. my therapist thought it would be best for me to face my fear but take baby steps, gradually getting used to the idea of seeing the ocean and being in it. Then I can learn to swim better and work on talking to my family about what's bothering me rather than bottling it all up and hoping I'm not a burden." I finished, watching as mom placed a hand on Dad's shoulder as he processed everything.
"Loretta, I support you but I wish you'd be more careful. Have you spoken to your therapist about your sudden trip to the beach?"
"No I haven't, and I think I was just sleep walking. I'm sure I'll be fine."
He looked totally inconvenienced.
Just as Mom was about to say something I heard the familiar sound of my Aunt Nova arriving, taking over the conversation in one full swoop.
"Honey, I'm home!"
Looking out the window, I felt the strangest tug on my heart as the lullaby filled my mind and Michael's face came into view as he walked up to the back door and knocked softly.
Was he even human?
- Writer
