Salt

The Lady of the Lake

Fuck, I didn't have a torch. The dark was consuming, quick to eat me and fear I may never be able to leave. Still, I pursued, I couldn't go back now.

        Not long after entering, my movements ceased to a minimum. I picked my feet up high, in fear of large logs or forgotten and fallen tree stalks. They crushed the leaves and sticks under me softly, sounding almost like candy wrappers. Each was crinklier than the last.

        There was no sound, almost, save my rapid breath and the infrequent echo of my footsteps. A silence so deafening, I was begging for something more.

        How was I supposed to find Ciara like this? Why did I just wander in, without calling emergency services? Why was I so stupid?

        My heart hammered out of time with the constant thoughts that did laps around my brain. I was so hot, so ready to shed my clothes if it meant I'd find her faster. If it somehow meant that I could make any sort of difference.

        "Ciara!" I screamed.

        If she heard, I couldn't hear. My blood was shot, my feet were aching and I couldn't see a fucking thing, as the cherry on top. I tried distracting myself from it all, but the moment I'd congratulate on losing it, I'd be overwhelmed with it returning tenfold.

        There was a flap somewhere, so I tilted in its direction, hoping for the best.

        Finally, my feet stopped, when I saw the moonlight reflect like a spotlight on the lake. I'd reached some kind of bearing, I'd work my way out again from here. At least, this way I knew where I was.

        The twigs crunched and snapped under my weight, reverberating in my head so loudly they could conjure an aneurysm, which was neither funny or playful. I thought I could erase it from memory by staring at the water, a landmark so beautiful, so peaceful, any other month it would bring me a strong sense of serenity.

        The stream was calm, gloriously soaking in the lunar rays that I faltered.

        The breath caught in my throat, right as my eyes adjusted to the addition on the shore. A bright blue bag was tangled and twisted around the neck.

        It was too dark to tell, but as I approached, I just knew.

        I neared the water, slowly at first, but as my bloodstream pulsed and my palms grew sweaty, I got there swiftly. In a few moments, I was kneeling, grabbing, and was facing a mother's worst fear.

        The midnight glow shone upon her face, instead of tan and vibrant, now pale and bloated. Her mouth was wide open, the water dripping out it as well as her hair. It was cold, and bleak, and it trickled back to the comforting arms of its mother, anticipating a round of applause in its achievement.

        "Ciara..."

        Her name escaped me, shaky and inconsistent, my fingers brushing through her matted hair as I removed her bag. She didn't stir, or cough, or scream bloody murder for me to leave her alone.

        Her skin was relatively still somewhat warm, momentarily crippling what I knew to be true, before I reached for my phone. Everything was draining and cold, including my shallow presses on the buttons, the tangled hair I scrunched in my other hand, the way I couldn't look at her face anymore... I had it imprinted.

        The crackling in my ear intensified, grating me further, as the line began to speak more than just noise.

        "Ashley, is everything alright?"

        Why are you asking about me?

        I swallowed the lump in my throat, the serene water stream taking me away. It started to flood my entire being, my face, until I was back to that familiar feeling.