Page 13 of Insidious

***

I’m cold. So cold.

That’s the first thing I know. Everything is swaying. I’m on a raft.

It shifts underneath me, creaking with every movement. The sea stretches out in every direction, endless and grey.

And the water—

God.

Do you know that feeling? That creeping, crawling awareness that something is beneath you. That the surface is just a thin skin, and under it, there’s depth—limitless, dark, unknowable.

I don’t know how deep it is, and I don’t want to know. I feel like Pinocchio waiting for the whale.

The raft dips, then rises.

Dips again.

The waves are getting bigger.

The sky feels too low, pressing down, grey and heavy. Wind like needles cuts across my skin, leaving gooseflesh behind. The raft groans as it climbs—

Climbs—

Climbs—

To the top of a wave.

Just for a second, everything stills, and I can see forever.

Nothing but water.

Nothing but grey.

And then it drops.

My stomach lurches as I plunge with it, a sickening, weightless fall that rips the breath from my lungs. The world tilts as the water rises to meet me, freezing, choking.

There’s nothing to hold onto.

Another wave lifts me again—

Higher this time.

I’m carried up, helpless, and then thrown down.

Again.

And again.

That awful moment at the top where everything pauses—

And then the drop.

My heart hammers in my ears.

The sea feels alive now.