Drown

6. Blink

I'm aware I'm dreaming but I can't seem to wake up.

I'm in my house and everything seems light and unreal.

I'm walking, up the steps, and suddenly my mom is standing there, right in front of me.

"Don't go in there," she says, but I push past her, keep walking towards the bathroom. "Baby, please don't go in. Please don't." But I keep walking.

I feel myself push open the door, and all I see is my dad's face, his closed eyes.

"Baby, I told you. I told you not to go in there." I hear things.

All different things. My mother's sobs. My own. I can hear ambulances. And the hiss of people talking on the street, whispering suicide and he killed himself, and everything is so loud and I can't breathe. The whole house starts shaking. I fall to the ground.

"What's happening, mom?" I cry. "Mom!" I scream but she's already falling through the floor. Falling, falling.

"Mom, no!" I scream.

I wake up soaked in sweat, gasping. I drag myself up and into my shower. I can't stand. Rocking back and forth, I choke on a panic attack.

My thoughts are going wild.

I can't let her die. He's dead. I have no one. No one. Where are you, Dad, where are you I'm alone I'm all alone help me--

I feel sick and can't make myself breathe properly. "Come back," I say, looking up. "Come back. Come back. Come back."

He's gone, Caroline, my mind whispers. Gone.

It takes me what seems like forever to find my own breath again. I gasp and gasp until it finally feels like I'm not dying.

It has been a week since I spoke to Vince. And since then, I'd had nightmares every night. And panic attacks that followed.

***

I dug the card out of discarded jeans on the floor of my bedroom. On it, said a number and a name: Richard Jacques, and also four simple words, I have the note.

I was afraid. Shaking with fear. But I had nothing to hold onto and nothing to lose.

"Hello?" A man says. My fingers tighten on my phone.

"It's Caroline King. I'm the girl you--"

"I remember," he says, gently. "Michael King's daughter."

"Yes. The note," I say, thickly, "Where is it?"

I hear him sigh. It sounds regretful. I wonder why, and wonder if I said something wrong.

"Okay," he says. He tells me where to meet him. I can't help but feel suspicious and scared, but figure I have nothing to lose anyways.

I'm at the park in under a half hour, and sitting at a bench underneath the shade of a tree. I pick at my nails.

"Caroline," someone says very gently.

I stand. "Can I have it?" I ask. He says yes, and hands over and envelope.

"Again, I'm sorry for your loss--" he's cut off when someone shouts, "Watch out!" and then there's a flurry of limbs and a resounding thump on the ground.

My eyes widen and my fingers tighten on the envelope when I realize its Josh Miller.

"Oh god," he moans. "Definitely broken. Ohhhhh my goddddd," he moan in pain.