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My hand drops, fingers still curled around the trigger, feeling absolutely defeated. Whichever god has decided that I need to be brought down a peg or two has fashioned their revenge perfectly. I felt weak and listless, wanting to die but unable to think of another way to do it.
My breath starts to come short as if my own body is rebelling against me. If I cannot muster a way to kill myself, my body will do it for me. I clutch my chest, feeling it tight and closed, and I begin to hyperventilate, sweat dripping from my brow.
Failure.
I am a failure.
All I had to do was ensure my sub’s safety. That’s my role in our relationship and I failed. And now here she lies, dead and gone. My body is revolting against me. I don’t blame it.
Black spots appear before my eyes, I can’t breathe; can’t draw in oxygen. My hands are shaking, and I’m sweating.
Vaguely, in the back of my mind where everything is still coldly objective, I realize that I’m having a panic attack. I used to have them sometimes as a child, but it’s been years..
All I have to do is give in to it and I’m pretty sure in extremis, I could asphyxiate myself. I fold in on myself, still hyperventilating, my body still fighting itself. The urge for survival is warring with the very real need to be dead.
“Gigi.” I groan as tears roll down my eyes. “Gigi, I’m sorry.”
Out of the corner of my eye, my mind struggles to register that I see something move.
And then, I feel it, a feathery soft… touch.
The madness is complete. I’m already seeing ghosts. She makes a sound, one of distress and I open my eyes and look at her. My heart drops to my shoes when I see that she’s looking back at me. Her eyes are open. It’s like a horror movie but instead of being terrified, I feel relieved. If I’m going mad, and the madness has decided to take the form of Giada being alive, I’ll take it. I’ll take it gladly and live with it for as long as I can. When it ceases to be enough, I know full well where to get bullets. Her fingers caress my flesh. It feels so real, like it’s really happening. I’m afraid to move lest I spook her somehow.
I look down at her hands, slightly blue at the edges and trembling noticeably. I reach slowly, wanting to see if I can touch her in turn. I let out a breath as my hand does not go through hers, and I’m able to grasp her.
I begin to wonder if I’m having a complete psychotic break or if maybe… Giada is alive?
I call her name softly, half dreading half hoping for a response. I have no idea what I’ll do if either happens. I feel like we’re officially in the twilight zone.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
It’s like floating on a sea of clouds in between huge squalls that destabilize everything and plunge me into violent dreams filled with blood, death and destruction and then it’s back to peace, and floating.
Returning awareness is a slow thing and it begins with a distinct feeling of paralysis. I feel like I’m drowning, and I need to get to the surface so I can breathe. I try; I do my best to move my limbs, but they won’t budge. I can see the surface, the sunlight dancing on the water, the occasional sea gull diving to snag a fish in its beak.
I’m Ariel, longing to swim up and see what’s out there, what new life awaits, but my limbsjust. won’t. move.
Help!
I try to open my mouth and call out, but my mouth won’t move!
Fuck! What is happening to me?
I try to think back to how I could have gotten myself in this situation. How did I end up underwater anyway?
Nothing comes to mind.
Then suddenly, I hear a sound so painful it would make me collapse into myself if I could move. It’s a sob mixed in with my name. Someone’s calling me! I try to answer but I still can’t make myself move. I strain my ears, trying to hear more but all I hear is echoes.
In my mind I’m squirming about, trying to get the blood flowing, so my limbs can move. I feel as if there’s something in the room with me, a presence – I’m not sure if it’s friendly or malevolent but it’s looming.
Suddenly, something seems to work because I feel my fingers jerked.
I gasp.
They moved!
I try to do it again, deliberately, and my fingers jerk again. I can move something. I try bending my toes and much to my surprise, I am able to – though the tingling of pins and needles makes me want to groan and squirm. My body moves at the waist, and I realize that I don’t have to keep my eyes closed, I can open them. I almost scream with joy, as I open my eyes and immediately squint at the too bright morning light.
