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RAINE
I feel disgusting.Not just because of what Micah and Judas did to me, but because I really need a shower after all that.
I’m still lying here, butt ass naked, staring at the ceiling. It feels like hours since they left the room, but it’s probably only been minutes. My sense of time is already starting to get distorted in here.
The metal of the cuff is cool against my still warm skin; I pull the chain towards me and hold it against my forehead.
How the hell am I going to get out of here? There’s literally nothing in this room that I can use to get myself out of the handcuff. And even if I were to get it off, and I somehow managed to get out of this room, I wouldn’t know how to navigate my way through this house. It looked huge from across the lake, so I can only imagine how big it actually is.
There’s also the storm that doesn’t seem like it’ll end anytime soon. I can still hear the rain pounding on the roof, hear the wind as it howls through the night and shakes the house’s foundation.
Slowly, I sit up and pull my clothes back on. The mattress is still damp from my sweat. I wish there was a window in here so I could see my surroundings.
The thought of being out here in the middle of the lake on this tiny island makes me dizzy. I’ve had a fear of water since I was ten…
“Makesure to stay where we can see you, Raine,” Mom said as she rubbed sunscreen onto her rich brown skin. Dad took a long swig of his beer and leaned back in his beach chair; he looked exhausted.
I nodded. “Okay, Mom!”
Excited, I ran towards the edge of the water and stopped right where the dry sand ended and the wet sand began. I was wearing orange floaties on my arms since I still couldn’t swim. I’d begged Mom and Dad to get me lessons, but each time they’d dismissed me, saying it wasn’t an expense we needed to have. I was disappointed to say the least, but I felt like now would be the chance for me to learn to swim.
Tentatively, I took a step onto the wet sand and waited for the water to recede before taking another one. Pretty soon, I was knee-deep in the warm water. Other kids were farther out with their parents, being thrown into the air and landing in the water with a big splash.
I turned to look at my own parents and silently begged them to come out here with me. What was the point in bringing me here if they were just going to sit on the shore and ignore me?
Turning back around, I took a deep breath before going in further, heart pounding with anticipation.
I’m actually doing it!
I looked back at Mom and Dad again, hoping they’d been able to pull themselves away from their work long enough to pay attention to me, but of course, their noses were deep in their laptops and papers. I hadn’t even realized they’d brought them.
I tried to swallow down the disappointment. I didn’t think of myself as a “high maintenance” kid. All I ever asked of them was to not put me second to their work.
Apparently, that was too much.
The disappointment I was feeling made way to anger.
I went out farther until my feet no longer touched the sand.
“Don’t fail me now, floaties,” I prayed as I kicked my arms and legs.
A small wave in the distance started rolling towards me, and before long, it was way over my head. I tried to turn around to go back to shore, but the waves crashed over me and pulled me under.
I started thrashing wildly. Fear nearly crippled me, but the need to breathe outweighed the feeling. I tried to scream, but saltwater just filled my mouth and nose.
God, I’m so stupid.Why did I think I’d be able to jump into the ocean and just magically be able to swim?
I’d often wondered if people who died from doing stupid things immediately regretted it.
I definitely regretted this.
Because now I was going to die all alone out here in the ocean while my parents were just feet away, completely oblivious to the fact that I was drowning. How long would it take them to notice I was gone?
The soundof the doorknob jiggling breaks me out of my thoughts.
I had forgotten what had happened to make me so afraid of water. Whenever I’d asked my parents, they would mumble some vague answer and quickly dismiss it, and now I know why. How embarrassing it must be to know that your child is dying right in front of you and you don’t even notice.
I guess I’d subconsciously blocked out that memory for so long that another traumatic experience brought it back.
