Fifteen
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Water surrounds me. Darkness presses my chest. I wave my arms. They are thin, spindly. The current drags me lower. I open my mouth and let loose a ball of bubbles. The water is everywhere, crushing my ribs. I’m going to die.
I jerk up and stare straight ahead, waiting for my mind to shift gears and shake off what felt like an incredibly real dream. An advertisement for the local singing competition blares on screen. The announcer’s voice sounds like Kylie’s.
I’d been watching Channel Four when I fell asleep. Normally, I avoid the news since a nightly announcement of the day’s crimes, corruption, and disasters isn’t my idea of a good time. My pulse is still hammering. Did my subconscious craft the nightmare from a news story or is it another memory?
I hold my head in fru
