Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [42]
Under the water, I could see my body sinking in the depths of the pool. Brent swam us toward it, but something invisible stopped us and flung us back with a flash of orange light. We tried again with the same result. Something was keeping us from getting any closer. It was like my body was wrapped in an invisible container that was keeping me from it.
Brent let go of me and swam alone toward the unseen barrier. He hesitated, his hands outstretched, feeling for the surface of it, until he smacked his palm against it, testing its strength. His face contorted with determination as he struggled, pushing, kicking and pounding with closed fists and flailing feet until the orange light blasted again, blindingly bright. Brent was right at the epicenter and I watched, horrified and helpless, as he was hurtled backward, like a rock skipping out from under a tire, and out from the pool.
I was alone.
Chapter 8
The shimmery orange wall lingered for an instant longer before it disintegrated into a glitter of glowing orange sparks that extinguished as they cascaded down, like fireworks fading in the sky.
“Brent!” I screamed, my heart booming recklessly from across the pool. I started to swim toward where he had just been but then, like a magnet, I was pulled toward my body, finally able to reconnect with it.
My first thought was for Brent; he was probably back in his body, too, and I had to make sure he was okay after receiving the full brunt of the blast. My body didn’t want to cooperate, though; my mind was disoriented, and I blinked frantically to straighten my vision out. It didn’t help much. The bottom of the pool was dark, the water was cold, and I was shivering.
I clawed toward the surface, determined to get out of the water, but I kept being dragged down by some unseen weight. My dress was caught on something, holding me captive under water.
I tugged and pulled, but no matter how hard I struggled I still couldn’t wrench it free. I knew I didn’t have much time, and I fought so hard that my bending, breaking, and bloodied nails tore at the fabric until it was ripped to shreds, but I was still stuck. My only chance of escape was to get out of the dress; it had to come off.
I tried to reach the buttons on the back of the gown but my hands were shaking too hard, and my frenzied fingers were unable to undo a single button. I was trapped.
The water was pushing me down further, crushing my lungs until they felt like they were going to burst. Stubbornly, I held tightly to the tiny bit of life-giving air hiding in them. Refusing to give up, my legs and arms kicked and pulled in vain. The stale air in my chest needed to be released but I knew water would replace it. My snarled hair and beautiful dress swirled around me like some eerie movie. This all felt familiar and then I understood why. It was my nightmare.
I’m dying, I thought as the hope inside me was brutally demolished by the terrible realization that my dream had not been a warning, but a foretelling; there would be no escape.
The hazy black edges of my vision started to spread into the center of my sight. I bit my lips together, fighting the inevitable, while hope still remained in my heart. I had seen this before, night after night. If I could hold out a little longer, help would come. He always came, and every night he got closer.
I closed my eyes trying to focus on the safety of that thought. That assurance slipped away as I felt the air inside me spoiling and knew it could do me no more good.
“Help me,” I cried, my voice distorted by the deep water and heard by no one.
My eyes were closing in defeat when I saw him: Brent, swimming toward me, the white shirt from his uniform billowing slightly around him. He had come back.
“Please don’t give up. Hang on,” he pleaded. I nodded clinging to life now that he was here to rescue me. He swam to my right side, trying to find where I was attached, until my eyes could no longer focus.
Just as everything went black, there was a blinding light, so bright I shielded my eyes from its overwhelming beauty, and all of