Lost in Closed Waters
Lost In Closed Waters
‘You don’t realise what you have until it’s gone’- the number of times I’ve heard that quote and not believed it is astonishing. I’m sure it’s been put into so many films and so many books and songs that everyone in the world has probably heard of it. Then again this world is so huge, so vast.
I’m in a boat right now, somewhere in the world. You’d think it was the ocean; the water is such a deep blue, the waves so high and I haven’t seen land for days. The only thing is that I haven’t seen the sun either. Or the sky. There is a dirt ceiling above my head.
Crazy, I know, you’d think that if this were a cave there would be land nearby but there isn’t, there’s just water. The endless turmoil, upsurge and swell of an expanse of salty blue is all that I see. The ceiling itself is quite pretty despite that ever present feeling of being trapped that it radiates. It’s very high with stalactites hanging down; some are so close to the water I have to navigate round them, some sparkle like crystals. Yes there is light, the ceiling is full of holes which makes me wonder just how thin it is. If I think too hard I worry that it will collapse on top of me and I’ll suffocate.
Sometimes a part of it crumbles or a stalactite breaks off and crashes into the water. The huge dark wave crests they make jolt the boat if one falls near enough, the force making me shiver. It’s in those unpredictable moments where you feel the most awake, the most alive. You’re filled with this energy, limitless, and you breathe deep, the adrenaline making you feel stronger than ever. Or sometimes you feel weak and vulnerable, and you wonder why you’re still here and not dead, why that wave or falling block of earth hasn’t killed you yet.
The plan had been to find the lost island that was said to be here. All I had was a memory of a map and a story my Nana had told me. I thought I had orientated myself the right way from what I could remember of the map, but perhaps I’d gotten it wrong, or maybe I’d miscalculated the distance from the bay to the island. In the beginning I used the moonlight to guide me, using the way the rays slanted to show me the east from the west, but I don’t know anymore. It’s all just ocean. An infinite mass of restless salt tears under a soil sky.
It’s hard being here. Knowing that you’re going to starve to death if you don’t find land soon. But I’ve only just run out of food. It will be a few weeks before I can’t do anything. Before I can’t even think.
***
It’s been over two months now; I scratched the days into the side of the boat with my overgrown nails. I ran out of food nearly three weeks ago, now I lie gazing at the ceiling. I see nothing as it is night. No light shines from the holes above.
The darkness scares me. Everything becomes dead in the night. The waters sleep, becoming still. Last night I was leaning out of the boat, bored, tracing circles on the water. In the tiny slivers of moonlight, the water looked like glass, the ripples mesmerizing. But then something bit my fingers making them bleed.
After that I curled up in the boat. I haven’t moved since last night but to scratch the day into the wood. It’s easier to just look at the ceiling or focus on the lines in the wood than to face the idea that there’s something lurking beneath me.
Right now I feel horrible and sick inside. There is no moon tonight, there is no light. I cannot sleep. If I close my eyes I imagine horrible things beneath me. But with my eyes open, it is still pitch black. There is no escaping my nightmares tonight.
***
Today I felt that my right arm is numb all the way up to my shoulder. I think that whatever bit me two nights ago poisoned me; the veins on my arm have turned black. I tried to clean the cut, but my fingers have swollen, the tips black as well. It’s a little frightening, but my arm still works. Hopefully it’ll be like in the movies where they have a fever and that but recover and wake up with a bunch of cool powers. Ha, fancy that, me a super hero!
I’ve always wanted to be a superhero with powers, and go on wild adventures, crazy stunts and stuff like jumping off skyscrapers and running with wolves. It was me trying to pull off a crazy stunt which landed me here. Cave exploring. I suppose I just wanted to be like my mother and father; strangers who Nana weaved the most brilliant stories about. The stories she told me were beyond anything I could have ever imagined. She said they travelled the world from climbing Everest to free diving in Mexico. She said they found treasure once and that they’ve met both the rich and famous and the hidden tribes of the Amazon. It all sounded so real when she told me. Now that I’m older I suppose I’m still holding on to those tales. Wishing. Dreaming. That’s all I can do now anyways, just remember the stories and dream of what they were really like.
***
I can’t move anymore. I have no more energy left. This must be what it feels like to be paralysed. Or in a vegetable like state. At least I can still think. But my head is in agony. It is worse than any headache I’ve ever had. The constant throbbing makes me want to cry it’s so great. It’s perhaps comparable to having nails hammered into your skull or the feel of a saw vibrating against your head. And yet even those images don’t describe the pain well enough. But they’re the best ones I can come up with.
The boat is very still. That is likely because I’m not moving. My eyes close of their own accord. Exhaustion overwhelms me.
Suddenly hear something and look up. I see dust falling from the ceiling. Something is crawling up there. There is a giant stalactite directly above me and I can see the thing starting to crawl down it. Looking closer, I can see that it’s a person, climbing on all fours. His nails are sharp like claws and dig into the crystal holding him there. I cannot see his face, it’s covered by long dangling thick black hair.
“Come with me,” he says.
“Who are you?” I ask him. His face is still hidden behind his fringe.
“I’m here to rescue you.”
His words ring like bells chiming in my head. I just stare at him unsure of how to react. I want to leap for joy and cry and laugh with happiness and shock and disbelief all at the same time. I slowly take his hand and he pulls me up onto the stalactite.
***
It was strange when I followed the stranger. It was incredible; the further we climbed the stalactite the colder it became. I could feel the wind blowing past me almost as if it was trying to pull me back down to the ocean. But there was no going back now. I remembered watching the boat pass beneath us as the waves drove it onwards. I had to keep going, I couldn’t fall.
I was so close to touching the ceiling when suddenly, I felt an unbearable pain in my chest.
Opening my eyes, I saw a dirt ceiling. It was so far away.
Tears fell down my cheeks. It had felt so real, my dream. How was I even crying, I hadn’t drank anything for over a day. My tears were thick. Suddenly it was as if black ink was coating my eyes. My tears were black. The poison. My chest hurt so much.
‘You don’t realise what you have until it’s gone’- I suppose I didn’t realise how much I wanted to live until my life was taken from me. I never knew how much I loved to explore and to wish and to dream until everything I was became swallowed in the darkness.
I’m in a boat right now, somewhere in the world. You’d think it was the ocean; the water is such a deep blue, the waves so high and I haven’t seen land for days. The only thing is that I haven’t seen the sun either. Or the sky. There is a dirt ceiling above my head.
Crazy, I know, you’d think that if this were a cave there would be land nearby but there isn’t, there’s just water. The endless turmoil, upsurge and swell of an expanse of salty blue is all that I see. The ceiling itself is quite pretty despite that ever present feeling of being trapped that it radiates. It’s very high with stalactites hanging down; some are so close to the water I have to navigate round them, some sparkle like crystals. Yes there is light, the ceiling is full of holes which makes me wonder just how thin it is. If I think too hard I worry that it will collapse on top of me and I’ll suffocate.
Sometimes a part of it crumbles or a stalactite breaks off and crashes into the water. The huge dark wave crests they make jolt the boat if one falls near enough, the force making me shiver. It’s in those unpredictable moments where you feel the most awake, the most alive. You’re filled with this energy, limitless, and you breathe deep, the adrenaline making you feel stronger than ever. Or sometimes you feel weak and vulnerable, and you wonder why you’re still here and not dead, why that wave or falling block of earth hasn’t killed you yet.
The plan had been to find the lost island that was said to be here. All I had was a memory of a map and a story my Nana had told me. I thought I had orientated myself the right way from what I could remember of the map, but perhaps I’d gotten it wrong, or maybe I’d miscalculated the distance from the bay to the island. In the beginning I used the moonlight to guide me, using the way the rays slanted to show me the east from the west, but I don’t know anymore. It’s all just ocean. An infinite mass of restless salt tears under a soil sky.
It’s hard being here. Knowing that you’re going to starve to death if you don’t find land soon. But I’ve only just run out of food. It will be a few weeks before I can’t do anything. Before I can’t even think.
***
It’s been over two months now; I scratched the days into the side of the boat with my overgrown nails. I ran out of food nearly three weeks ago, now I lie gazing at the ceiling. I see nothing as it is night. No light shines from the holes above.
The darkness scares me. Everything becomes dead in the night. The waters sleep, becoming still. Last night I was leaning out of the boat, bored, tracing circles on the water. In the tiny slivers of moonlight, the water looked like glass, the ripples mesmerizing. But then something bit my fingers making them bleed.
After that I curled up in the boat. I haven’t moved since last night but to scratch the day into the wood. It’s easier to just look at the ceiling or focus on the lines in the wood than to face the idea that there’s something lurking beneath me.
Right now I feel horrible and sick inside. There is no moon tonight, there is no light. I cannot sleep. If I close my eyes I imagine horrible things beneath me. But with my eyes open, it is still pitch black. There is no escaping my nightmares tonight.
***
Today I felt that my right arm is numb all the way up to my shoulder. I think that whatever bit me two nights ago poisoned me; the veins on my arm have turned black. I tried to clean the cut, but my fingers have swollen, the tips black as well. It’s a little frightening, but my arm still works. Hopefully it’ll be like in the movies where they have a fever and that but recover and wake up with a bunch of cool powers. Ha, fancy that, me a super hero!
I’ve always wanted to be a superhero with powers, and go on wild adventures, crazy stunts and stuff like jumping off skyscrapers and running with wolves. It was me trying to pull off a crazy stunt which landed me here. Cave exploring. I suppose I just wanted to be like my mother and father; strangers who Nana weaved the most brilliant stories about. The stories she told me were beyond anything I could have ever imagined. She said they travelled the world from climbing Everest to free diving in Mexico. She said they found treasure once and that they’ve met both the rich and famous and the hidden tribes of the Amazon. It all sounded so real when she told me. Now that I’m older I suppose I’m still holding on to those tales. Wishing. Dreaming. That’s all I can do now anyways, just remember the stories and dream of what they were really like.
***
I can’t move anymore. I have no more energy left. This must be what it feels like to be paralysed. Or in a vegetable like state. At least I can still think. But my head is in agony. It is worse than any headache I’ve ever had. The constant throbbing makes me want to cry it’s so great. It’s perhaps comparable to having nails hammered into your skull or the feel of a saw vibrating against your head. And yet even those images don’t describe the pain well enough. But they’re the best ones I can come up with.
The boat is very still. That is likely because I’m not moving. My eyes close of their own accord. Exhaustion overwhelms me.
Suddenly hear something and look up. I see dust falling from the ceiling. Something is crawling up there. There is a giant stalactite directly above me and I can see the thing starting to crawl down it. Looking closer, I can see that it’s a person, climbing on all fours. His nails are sharp like claws and dig into the crystal holding him there. I cannot see his face, it’s covered by long dangling thick black hair.
“Come with me,” he says.
“Who are you?” I ask him. His face is still hidden behind his fringe.
“I’m here to rescue you.”
His words ring like bells chiming in my head. I just stare at him unsure of how to react. I want to leap for joy and cry and laugh with happiness and shock and disbelief all at the same time. I slowly take his hand and he pulls me up onto the stalactite.
***
It was strange when I followed the stranger. It was incredible; the further we climbed the stalactite the colder it became. I could feel the wind blowing past me almost as if it was trying to pull me back down to the ocean. But there was no going back now. I remembered watching the boat pass beneath us as the waves drove it onwards. I had to keep going, I couldn’t fall.
I was so close to touching the ceiling when suddenly, I felt an unbearable pain in my chest.
Opening my eyes, I saw a dirt ceiling. It was so far away.
Tears fell down my cheeks. It had felt so real, my dream. How was I even crying, I hadn’t drank anything for over a day. My tears were thick. Suddenly it was as if black ink was coating my eyes. My tears were black. The poison. My chest hurt so much.
‘You don’t realise what you have until it’s gone’- I suppose I didn’t realise how much I wanted to live until my life was taken from me. I never knew how much I loved to explore and to wish and to dream until everything I was became swallowed in the darkness.