The Rapunzels

5: 3:59

There's a bathtub in this guesthouse, claw-footed and decked out in gold trim. The other house has a hot tub but I've never been a fan of chaotic water – unless I'm the one causing the uproar.

I kick off my shoes, they fall against the wall with an angry thud.

The pain in my insides has stopped. The blood on my legs is nearly dry. I almost feel alright.

I walk to the tub and fill it up. Warmth plumes to me. Dipping my finger makes me melt. It's tepid but I only use steaming water for my body, not my head. Last time I lasted nearly four minutes. Two seconds more and I could be bragging that I beat Lulu's record.

Everything is still. I look at the water before running my palm over the surface. Back and forth. Right to left. The water ripples gently. I can control its chaos or make sure it remains tame.

There's a stopwatch on the counter, right where I left it last month. It's by our toiletries and my favourite bar of vanilla-scented soap. I brush the dust off the watch and press start. I don't bother removing my clothes. When I lean over the tub and dunk my head in, my hair spreads out instantly. I am an octopus with a million tentacles. The collar of my top soaks up the water. Wetness moves toward my shoulders.

I close my eyes and slow down my breathing until I am nearly dead. Soon, I can't even feel my heart beating. There's a gentle noise surrounding me. Perhaps this is how it was before I was born. Warm. Calm. Part alive and part dead.

I think of whales and the songs they sing. I can almost hear them if I listen carefully enough. Their song is a serenade that carries me to them. I am floating, moving closer to the bottom of the sea. I bring my hands into the water and let my hair brush over my skin.

The whales come to greet me. They are huge like planets. They are tiny like minnows. I want to follow them but they push me away.

When I open my eyes, the water is crimson. The whales wail as a wolf runs to them and snaps its mighty teeth over their skin. Snap! Snap! Over and over until there's no whale left and the wolf is as big as the universe.

Underwater, the creature pads to me. It touches its nose to mine then opens its mouth and swallows me whole.

I scramble out of the tub bringing enough water out to soak the rest of my dress. My heart lurches and starts up again. I gobble a huge bite of air and turn to the timer. 3:59. With a rage inside me so abrupt and uncalled for, I grab the watch and hurl it against the wall. Silvery sounds escape it as it falls.

Outside the window, the world is a collection of hushes. I push the curtain aside. Darkness is a veil trailing along the grounds.

I get up and slip out of my wet, bloody clothes. Then I turn the hot water on so it sprays violently into the tub. When it's hot enough to burn, I get in and allow myself to melt away.  

total word count till now: 4581