Skimming the Surface

Chapter 12- Saviors

Chapter 12

Mason

    She stared at him, incredulous. "There is no one here that can help me! No one understands, no one! I can't take being" she gestured at her body "all of this! It's not me. And clearly I'm not wanted here anyway. People have made that pretty clear." She gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry Mason. I'll miss you most."

     He was so confused. She was going away? But then she turned around to face the ocean, her silhouette given silvery outlines by the moon, and she started running. Everything seemed to be going so slow. He could see every strand of her fiery hair flowing behind her, and the moment her little toes hesitated on the edge before launching her through the air, arms outstretched.

     Shit! Shit! Shit! This could not be happening! Suddenly her words on Saturday rang through his mind- I don't swim. She didn't swim, and yet she was diving into the ocean. 

     Without thinking, he rushed to the edge, and reached into space. Desperation and panic clenched at his heart, and held it in a steel grasp, as he reached, groping, searching... he could feel his heart hammering in his ears... adrenaline rushing through his veins...

     His fingers found her foot and closed around her ankle. He held on with all the strength he had. A small smile spread across his lips. He got her- she was okay.

     But his smile didn't last. Her descent toward the water stopped, and she became a pendulum beginning its' descent. She was headed back toward the dock., and he couldn't let go to prevent it- she'd fall in the water! He could only watch as she swung into one of the massive beams holding up the dock.

     THUD. He winced as her head made contact with the old worn wood. Fuck. That couldn't be good.

     He started pulling her up, taking care not to hit her on any of the other beams. Finally he had her head over, and he carefully laid her on the dock. 

     Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. He watched her eyes, expecting them to open, half hoping to peer into their emerald depths. He was prepared for her to cry out in pain, and for him to comfort her. 

     But her eyes remained closed. His eyes wandered to her forehead, where he was met with a gruesome sight. Her forehead was covered with cuts and scrapes, and was already turning an ugly shade of purple. 

     But what really caught his eyes was a giant gash near her hairline. Even as he watched, blood was gushing out of it, covering her forehead in blood. The smell of the blood hit his nose; it smelled like copper pennies.

     No, no, no! This couldn't be happening, not to her. Panic surrounded his mind, making it difficult to think, to understand... He had to do something. He couldn't just let her... No, he couldn't think like that, she was going to be okay.

     He scooped her up, where she hung limply from his arms. She was so light. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

     A thought rose from within the panic-strewn mess that was his brain, and he latched onto it. It was all he had to go off right now. With that, he started running.

     He ran and ran, as fast as he could while carrying her. He wouldn't let her... he would get there in time. His feet were flying over the pavement, but it felt like he just couldn't go fast enough.

     At last, he saw his house. A little flame of relief flared up within him, but he smothered it quickly. They weren't out of the deep end yet.

     He rushed in through the front door, yelling, "Mom! Mom! Mom!" He barely had the air to yell. His lungs were on fire, but he ignored them. That wasn't important right now.