Windermere

Everyone has a fear, and the reason for it.

At that moment, you are at peace. The way you relax as you cleanse yourself and wander amongst your dreamful goals in the shower is not a sensation I can admit to pursue. As the water trickles down your cheeks with no fear, along the sleek surface of your chin; the droplets fall into a timeless plunge towards the pool in between your crossed arms. The steam rises above you to form a sheet of seclusion that will truly block you from the outside world as you ponder within your own wishful reality. How can you think this is a calm place, when in one single moment you could make the wrong decision and have your greatest fears imprinted in your eyes. You may think I make no sense, but if there is anything I know, it’s that nothing feels the same after your senses are switched.

Windermere

I could see the bottom of the lake already, and I didn’t like that. The unknown has always made my mind think curiously and seek out what is new; how does my television work, will my action figure melt on my bedroom heater. These are the important questions an eight year old clearly needs answering. Unfortunately, I had a bad feeling about that mere, yes, It’s a mere - not a lake, but that’s not important. The rocks and shallows made it look of murk and green as I peeked nervously over the edge of this shack-like boat. The faded white paint had been chipping away for a few years, as it had been sitting in our backyard; with the English weather paying no mercy on it. We had a working sail, but my father loved how certain things worked and had planned something for the journey. He had fitted a motorbike engine to the back and modified it with a propeller, you know, why not. He thought it was the greatest idea since sliced bread, and so did I. He was everything you needed when your troubles couldn't be answered. Let me ask you something; Have you ever had your batteries lose power, you’ve took them out, flipped them, put them back in, and somehow they work again; He would of been the man to teach you that. Tricks and philosophy were some traits he owned solely on his own. Fit for adventure wasn’t always his strong point, but that didn’t slow him down. His mind was always a couple of steps ahead of himself. I think that is where I get my sense of insightful feeling, knowing something will have an effect without seeing the cause first hand.

My mother was loving our little sailing voyage across the watching water. She was always a free spirit, the type of mother that not only cared for you, but with one look directly into your eyes she could give you the courage to take on the world, if you wished it to be so. That strength could only come from one place, and that was from her. We were only fourty feet from the shore so we could see the birds flying within the trees and families nearby enjoying the view, waving with a polite greeting as we slipped by. she loved that sort of thing, the simplicity of life and how carefree it could be. She sat close to the bow with my brother. Let me tell you, he was no spirit, he was a wild animal by nature. He was the strongest figure I knew, and he could take on the world when it looked at him wrong, and whatever ran from him, the chase was on. The games we played I mostly lost; who could punch the hardest was his favourite. I’m not calling him a bully what-so-ever. Secretly, I knew I was the little brother he would do anything for, and at other times, he proved it. He once threw a bike wheel at some kid that had stole my bike whilst we were fixing them in the street, he couldn’t stop laughing at the irony. I thought it was hilarious as it bounced off the kid’s head, but oh-well. He didn't seem at home on the water, although I could tell that the situation we were in wasn’t worrying him, as it did I. He always showed me that it’s not the problem that’s the issue, it’s how it’s dealt with. Knowing he thought that way was comforting, but what if the situation was the issue, and he didn’t have the sight to see it.

We had been drifting along now for around fifteen minutes and I hadn’t shifted my eyes from the bed of this mere. Until, my father had decided it was time to let me live free for a few moments and guide us. I looked at him with doubt, not sure if this was the unknown I was comfortable with, but I agreed after he smirked knowing I was nervous about this responsibility. I didn’t want to let him after all. I sluggishly shifted to the back of the boat, sat close to him and reached shakily for the throttle handle of the engine. I will admit, in that brief slice of time I felt a sense of power; just like he did when he finally got any broken down car working again. The way my arm started to vibrate when I released the throttle was like an earthquake taunting me, the immense power was too much of a struggle for me. All I could think was that bad feeling I had of the shallows and I didn't want to go deeper. The boat started to shift forward much faster than I intended, so I pulled gently on the handle and steered us slightly closer to the shore. That’s where this story shifts, that is where the mistake was made. Even though my father had warned me not to go towards the shallow incase the prop hits the rocks, I couldn’t move. I was stiffened in a white fear, and my heading remained true.

I’d been so focused on keeping myself close to the safety of the shore, I didn’t realise the well-known steam boat that cruised the water of Windermere was making it’s hourly trip from one end to the other, transporting tourists and campers. This was the exact second I knew what was about to unfold, and after a short while, so did everyone else. A domino effect passed through the boat, my ghostly expression transferred out like a beacon urging everyone to be aware. I wished to call out for help, but I did not know how. My mother and brother immediately gave my father a concerned look. He told me to go sit in the middle of the boat, but I didn’t listen. I was still so entranced by what I was doing. I was free, and I wasn’t so sure if I liked it. Freedom and fear have been two feelings that can always intwine into each other. The whiteness had shifted from my face and migrated down into my knuckles creating a sickly colour within my grip. My eyes widened as I gazed, the steam boat was of magnificent size. Blasting through the water like a bull running for red, only set on one prize. The bow of the steamer plowed it’s way forward and the waves were forced away like an iron ball from a cannon, and they started to head for us. The weren't just a ripple in a puddle, these waves moved in a demonic sequence, as if planning to shift anything in their path. The boat passed us with ease whilst holding the presence of a devilish charm, knowing what effect it was causing. The passengers gave a cheerful greeting, not knowing what they were a part of. My mother was in no mood to reply, she and my brother were clambering around the boat figuring what to do, and by this time my father had ripped me from my throne of power and was trying to take us away from shore, but the waves had already started to pass us, rocking us left to right. The propellor was bouncing along the bed, and each rock felt like it was a gripping hand, taking hold of the boat and forcing us to stay in position as our fate flowed forward. The shore is where the water will be more concentrated and with it, more damage can be dealt. As I sat up against the mast, I forced my feet to the edge to keep myself from sliding around. I fixed my eyes to one point, and I what I could see was a great movement in the water, staring down at me. Judging the choices I made and having no mercy on what was to come. Each spray of foam and the glint of light bouncing from the water will forever stay with me. Every shape in the foam was flashing at me with the resemblance of ink stained paper, asking if what I could see was the correct answer or the one that would damn my course in life. The movement in the tide only had one destination and the was to meet with the rocks of the shoreline, and we were in the middle.

I wish I could describe what it looked like, as the beast plowed into the side of us. I had closed my eyes tightly, being the cowardly child that I was. An extreme pause came from the ostentatious scene, I took a deep breath and a surge of energy rushed past my face that was not by air or water, but of immense realisation that this was an element that cannot be tamed. I could feel the boat creek under the tremendous struggle as it was ripped off the mere-bed, turning us over like a roast on a spike. All we needed was to be seasoned and the meal was set. The sound of glass shattering shot through my body, but I was wrong. It was my mother screaming as the mast broke away, plowing into the rocks. The propeller came charging out of the water roaring at full power, as if to challenge its betrayer, it soon shorted out from being flipped the wrong way. It gave a splurge of water and fumes from the exhaust, signalling the loss of faith. The waves were upon us now and taking hold of everything I could feel. I opened my eyes and found that I was within my brother’s grasp; then the needles started. The freezing force that ripped me away from my brother and parents was a feeling of unbelievable pain. My stomach was left behind as I was flung into the air and towards the blackness of the beast. I hit the surface of the water with a force that shook the air from my body and I heard a great clap of thunder, but that was the sound of my skin cracking the waves. I was only a few meters away from the shattered boat, but I felt that I was in another world. The last vision I had from above the raging surface was the horrific loss in my father’s eyes. The unpleasant sounds that I could hear while being dragged under water has been unmatched to this day, and I wish never to hear them again. I was taken hostage under the mirrored surface, reflecting back at me were mistakes that I had made not moments ago. Repeatedly showing me what I did to deserve this, and yes, I did. I was the one that held us in the wrong position against the waves. If the boat was pointing true with the tide, no matter what condition it was in, we would simply lift and float straight over. The darkness of the place that had adopted my being was like no other. The murk came up to meet me with greetings of seclusion, wrapping my body with the dirt and making sure I had no chance to gasp for air, not that I could of. I wasn’t sinking, but suspended in the shallows of this nightmare. There was a slight sway of movement as the waves retreated from the shore and came back to join this joyful party that I was so lucky to be attending. I could feel eyes watching me from a distance as my head started to dip down towards the bed, or my bed as it were to be. I had a sorrowful release from the urge to breathe and my body gave one last fighting jolt; it was at this moment, I began to sink. In the fading reality that I was in, every inch of my body felt weighted. Truly, I was gone.

Waking up in the middle of a dream isn’t always the most enjoyable experience you can have. The time you spend in that place is only brief, but it can be what any trouble mind needs to take themselves one day further. I didn’t have a dream while in the dark, and I didn’t see that light the lucky ones mention. I was in no reach of feeling and sense, but I could feel teeth, or that is what I thought. The grime covered rocks that I remembered seeing from the surface were not so smooth after all, I felt every crack and point as my back and sides were attacked. The slight warmness that crept into the water wasn’t a trick of my mind, but it was my blood sticking close by as it tried to escape this nightmare of my cuts. It took me a few seconds to realise, but the reason I was being forced so hard into the rocks was because I was being dragged. I felt a pressure around my hand and a pulse in my fingers. I could feel a cold breeze against my skin as my arm surfaced. My mother had me, I could feel the struggle she was having, I needed to scream, but water and air do not mix correctly in your lungs. I wish I could help bring my body up, but I wasn’t in my body. The sensation of watching yourself in third person being rescued is not something you want to witness. At this time my father was holding onto my brother close to the shore. I knew my brother was okay as I could hear him, not shouting or screaming, but coughing out the fluid from his breath. My mother had got into a good spot close to shore and was well balanced, the waves were still rapid and were testing her. She didn’t back down to its taunt, she emitted a strength that wasn’t of power, but something that helps the world move. The motion of the tide began backing away like a kitten from a candle, not sure why this object is causing fear to fill it’s being. She gave a huge pull on my arm, and with an almost dislocation burst, I emerged from the deep. My eyes widened as I entered back into my mind. I could not remember this little part, but I do believe my mother dragged me to the side of the water and lay me to the pebbles. The soft breeze that filled the earth made my lungs feel at home, I could breathe again. As I looked back out of the water after I opened my eyes, I could see the last of the boat going under, attending the party that I just harshly left. The mast had escaped, floating away in the mere, oddly towards the direction of the steamer. In some metaphorical sense, I thought of this, I almost lost my family, but the mast just lost his. I was eight, and after what had just happened to me, my thoughts weren't exactly in the right places.

I'm twenty-two now, and thinking back to that day, I’m not sure why I was afraid of the water before I went under. Something I felt was telling me not to go near and I still search for that instinctive knowledge. Maybe, that is a little curse of mine, the curiosity of my father and the courage from my mother. That is what pushes me along in my mind. That is where I truly am, I have no part of this body, I am always wandering around in the back of this head. One of the things I’m searching for, is the tiny part of me that was dragged away by the darkness in the deep.