In The Darkest Depths

11. The Raging Winds

This is not the Rhea I knew. It's not the Rhea from the photo earlier today.

This one looks the same as the body they dragged from the lake. A corpse that is standing in my bedroom. She's still wearing the white dress, although it has gone completely see-through, clinging to her like a second skin. Her hair hangs past her shoulders, clumped together in knots. Water drips from her body, creating puddles on my carpeted floor.

Her eyes stay open, but they will never see again.

There's no heartbeat.

Why is this happening?

Her lifeless eyes stare at me, sending chills up my spine. She doesn't move, doesn't speak. She doesn't even blink. The only sound in the room is the constant drip of water as it lands in the pool at her feet. Her skin is deathly pale, so close in colour to her dress. Blue veins stand out against it, like road maps across her body. Her lips are parted as though she is on the verge of speaking.

I'm seeing things. Hallucinations brought on by grief. Either that or my nightmares have become so real that they are appearing even while I'm awake. It's like I've rewound my life and have found myself in the past. Only, this time it's Rhea instead of Adam.

I close my eyes, willing the apparition of Rhea away, desperate for her to be gone. I can't keep looking at her like this, I want to remember her as she was, not what she has become. It's a technique that has worked for me in the past. I hope it does so now.

When I open them, Rhea is, thankfully, gone. I breathe a sigh of relief that is immediately cut short by the sight in front of me.

Rhea may be gone, but there is still a damp patch on my carpet, right where she was standing.

"I'm going crazy."

I pace across the floor, too distracted to even appreciate that I'm in Carter's room, a place I had always secretly longed to find myself in. I've just finished explaining what happened in my room last night.

"No you're not." Carter's hair is still ruffled from sleep, his blue eyes clouded over with confusion. "You've suffered a great loss Audrey. It's not surprising that you saw her. You miss her."

"This was more than that, Carter." I should feel bad that I woke him up at six in the morning to listen to me ramble, but I don't. I need someone who will convince me that everything will be okay. "I could swear that wet patch stayed on my floor long after she left. I kept on checking on it throughout the night; it was still there."

I've been haunted by my ghosts before. This was different, I know it was.

"Everyone deals with grief differently."

He's being so calm, but it does nothing to alleviate my worries. I continue to walk up and down his room; sure I am going to wear a hole through the floor soon.

"This isn't grief. First, the dream when all of them died, then the one with Rhea, and now she's appearing in my bedroom? Something more is going on here. I'm seeing things, things I shouldn't be seeing."

"Audrey-,"

But I cut him off, my mind taking me to darker places. "Oh God, what if they're all going to die? What if the dream was a premonition? What if-,"

"Audrey, look at me." He grabs my shaking hands and stops me from pacing. His concerned eyes peer down at me. But they don't bring me the same comfort that they usually do. They are the same deep blue as Arcadia Lake.

The place where Rhea died. The colour from my nightmare that started all this.

I can't get a grip on my thoughts. They are spinning out of control and taking me with them. My breaths come out in short, heavy gasps and I can't get enough oxygen into my lungs. Black spots dance in front of my vision. The world starts tilting on its axis and my legs collapse from under me. Carter manages to catch me as I fall, lowering me safely to my knees on the floor.

"Breathe, Audrey. You're okay, I've got you."

Carter's face swims in front of me, blurry around the edges. And I try. I try so hard to gulp in air. But the panic won't let me. It's like it has physically lodged itself in my throat, stopping anything from getting past it. I choke on it, convinced that it will kill me too.

"Audrey, please. Audrey-," but he doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, his lips find mine. His hands cup my face, gently holding my cheeks, keeping me in place.

His kiss is gentle and calm, a direct contrast to the storm that is raging within me. It's almost as though he is trying to chase the dark clouds away, to distract me from the thunder rumbling through my veins.

I don't even recognize the shift, the moment that everything stops spinning. But I do realize the moment I start to kiss him back. It's like the world has reduced until there is nothing but Carter. My panic slowly subsides and ebbs away like ripples on the lake, replaced by a feeling I have never encountered before.

Fire erupts along my skin, burning underneath his touch. I've never been kissed like this before; so tenderly. As if he's afraid I might shatter into a thousand pieces. My hands fist in his shirt, as though I'm trying to pull him into the darkness with me. I don't want to be alone anymore.

He pulls away from me, his eyes wild. His thumb gently swipes across my cheek. I hadn't even known I was crying until he brushed away my tears.

"I'm so sorry, Audrey."

It was only later that day, when I was in my bedroom that I realised; I wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.