Four

"Aquaria..."

I wake abruptly, heart racing. The recurring nightmare of the dark haired woman in the sunken ship yet again wakes me far earlier than I would like. I take a deep breath to calm down, then push my damp, sweaty hair off of the base of my neck. 'It's just a dream,' I assure myself, then look over at my alarm clock. It's six-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, a day I usually try to sleep in due to swim meets in the afternoon. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars I plastered up there with my father when I was eight still dimly glow in the pre-dawn darkness. I close my eyes, then reopen them moments later with a sigh. After that dream, I know I'm not going back to sleep.

Stretching and yawning, I make my way over to my vanity, and take a good look at myself in the mirror. I see a girl of eighteen with fair hair and deep blue eyes staring back at me, the spray of freckles from summer weather fading into my peaches and cream skin tone. I stare at myself for a moment, then suddenly sit back quickly, my heart racing. Perhaps I am imagining things, but I swear in that moment my irises swirl like rolling waves in the ocean. I blink rapidly, and look back into the mirror; but they are back to normal.

"Don't be stupid Ren," I say out loud to myself, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I walk over to my window and lift the pane so that I can stick my head out into the cool breeze. I shiver as the wind raises goosebumps over my skin, and pull my blanket closer around me. I look down towards the clump of trees that edge around our property. The trees rustle and an owl takes off from the canopy towards the sinking moon. Another, unfamiliar noise brings my attention down towards the ground. I lean out my window and squint hard. I can't be sure, but I can swear I see a person slinking around the outskirts of our property. I hurry over to my nightstand and rustle for the flashlight, but as I flash it down across the lawn whatever I might have seen is gone.

I grab my towel and shuffle off to the bathroom; maybe a shower will get the visions out of my head. I let the hot water cascade down my body as I close my eyes. The bar of soap on the side of the tub drops loudly, startling me into opening my eyes too quickly, the hot droplets splattering right in them. I rub them quickly, and turn around, slathering shampoo in my hair. Today is not a day I can lose focus; my final swim meet of my high school career that also is against our school's arch-rivals is in a few short hours, and the last thing I want on my mind is this recurring nightmare.

Later that day, I'm in the front seat of my mother's car on the way to the meet. My mother always insists on driving me to every meet, and had been particularly stubborn the past few times. I hope it has something to do with the fact that after this year, I'll be going off to college in a few months and she and my father will be empty nesters. Thinking of my parents being left alone brings back the memory of their recent and frequent arguments, and my curiosity can no longer be contained.

"Hey Mom?" I ask tentatively. She looks over at me briefly before her eyes return to the road.

"What is it dear?" she asks, turning left onto the road that led to my high school. I hesitate; I'm not sure if it is the right moment to ask, but in the silence the question is already hanging there.

"Is everything okay between you and Dad?" I ask. An abrupt shake of her head is all I get, followed by a long silence until she parks the car in the parking lot next to the pool. She sits there for another moment, playing with her wedding band, then looks over at me.

"Why are you asking these sort of questions all of a sudden?" she says, a slight edge in her voice that I have only heard once, when I accidentally knocked over the urn that held the remains of her mother, shattering the piece of pottery and losing all of the ashes to the carpet and the vacuum.

"Well, the past few weeks I noticed that you and Dad have been arguing...a lot more than normal, and I want to...no, I need to know what's going on? I mean, are you guys doing okay?" I finally ask. My mother's tone makes me nervous to say anything at all, but I couldn't leave it hanging in midair. To my great surprise, my mother's expression softens.

"Is that what you've been worrying about?" she says, then chuckles when I give her an indignant look. I scowl, and she reaches over to smooth my hair back from my face.

"Don't worry, your father and I still love each other very much; we're just sorting through some things," she says, patting my cheek lightly. I know I should feel better, but the uneasiness is still bubbling in my gut.

"Well then, if you're not getting divorced, then what are you guys fighting about?" I ask. My mother looks down at the clock on the car dashboard and clears her throat uneasily.

"Oh look at the time, you better get in and ready," she says quickly, opening the car door and waits for me to get out. I hoist my swim bag over my shoulder, hop out and begin to walk towards the pool. Before I walk through the double doors, I look over my shoulder and see my mother texting furiously fast on her cell phone. I push the uneasiness down further into my gut and take a deep breath before walking through to the pool.

"Ren, I was starting to worry!" Jax jokes as I walk in. He is already changed, and several of our teammates are watching me from afar, whispering. I can't help but smile; I'm always at least a half hour earlier than expected to each meet so I can get in some practice laps, but today I'm just in time. I know that I don't want to get into why I'm late right now, so I brush off the comment with a playful shove towards the pool and change the subject.

"Don't worry about it Jax, I'm going to swim just fine," I say, tilting my head back and prancing a few steps to make him laugh. The whispers from my teammates continue, and I feel my face turn red. Jax turns and gives them a withering stare; they stop but I still cannot shake the uncomfortable feeling they give me. None of them have spoken to me since my surprise party last month, but it is obvious to me they certainly have plenty to say about the events that transpired there.

"White, glad to see you make it on time." A deep voice makes me jump, and I turn to see my swim coach, Coach Alden. He is a tall, intimidating man, who I still think must have been in Special Forces before coming to our small town, something he laughs off and denies. We don't know much about him actually; he just showed up out of the blue four years ago when the old swim coach suddenly retired to take over the position. Even though he pushes our team hard, I appreciate it; I don't think I could have been where I am today without his help.

"Sorry coach, I was just caught up with a few things this morning, that's all," I say. Coach pauses, and then gives me a glimpse of a smile.

"You'll want to get changed now," he said, gesturing towards the door. I nod and head into the changing rooms, where I don my school issued navy blue swimsuit and tuck my hair up into the white swim cap. I hate the cap; I could care less if my hair gets the green tinge from the chlorine, but unfortunately it's mandatory. I walk back out into the pool area, swirling my arms in a windmill motion to warm them up. There were a lot of people there from both our town and our rivals' to cheer on their swimmers. I immediately spot my parents in the crowd; my father must have gotten there while I was changing. I smile and give them each quick waves before heading to the bench to watch the first few races. I cheer on Jax and the others, though only Jax acknowledges my presence on the bench. I feel the urge to talk to my fellow teammates about what happened; but how do I even begin such a conversation? I am still in the dark on how the incident even happened, and trying to plead my case by reason of insanity to them seems out of the question.

Trying to not feel so distressed by my teammates' silent treatment, I stare into my hands, willing the tears I feel building up inside my tear ducts to just stay there. Vacantly studying the lines on my palms, I notice they formed a strange shape which I had not noticed before. Tracing one very lightly, I find the outline of a teardrop imprinted. I had never noticed it before; it could be that it always has been there, but I cannot help but notice the coincidence on the incident on my birthday, and the symbol of water happening to be emblazed on my palm. I press my finger down harder onto the outline and pull immediately away with a wince, for a burning sensation lit up my palm. For a split second I swear I see the outline of the teardrop light up, then fade into its light pattern again. I let my eyes glance around to see if anyone noticed what I was doing, and think for a moment Coach Alden is looking at me with a strange look on his face. However, when I blink he is concentrating on the clipboard in his hands, making no indication he had just been looking over at me. I dismiss it as a false wish that someone would be paying attention to me on the last meet of the year, but I find it is a tall order after what happened.

I look up at the race queue, and see that I am next up. My best race is the butterfly, one of the toughest strokes a swimmer can master. I had gotten the hang of it quickly freshman year; this last year, I know coach is counting on me to win for them. I step up to my diving block at spot number four, the spot I always take at home meets. I look up at the scoreboard; we are just four points ahead of our rival, so I know I must place in the top three if not take it outright. I flash a smile at my team before snapping my goggles on over my eyes, turning all of my focus back onto the fifty-meter lane in front of me. I lean forward on the diving block, my fingers tapping the edge with anticipation,

The whistle tweets loudly and I push off the edge of the block and dive into the pool with a small splash. All other sounds surrounding me melt away; I am in my element and all that I can see is the end of the pool. Swiftly I cross the pool, arching gracefully just out of the water like a dolphin, and I suddenly remember that was how my first swim instructor would always tell me to think about when we first started learning the butterfly. I tag the end of the pool and flip over, making my way back to the beginning. My confidence grows as I slide in and out of the water, the wall of the starting line growing closer and closer. Out of the corner of my eye I can't see any of my competition; nevertheless I put on an extra burst of speed to see if I can't get a record time in my last race.

"Aquaria..."

I hear a voice, low and dripping with venom hissing in my ear. I grow distracted, and look down towards the bottom of the pool. I do not remember I am underwater, where my scream couldn't be heard; instead a muffled noise and a jet of bubbles form outside my mouth. A dark figure is at the bottom of the pool, looking up at me. I cannot tell what exactly it is; if I had to guess from the black tendrils floating underneath the figure I would call it a half squid half woman, but those don't even exist. I feel the fear seize up and I am immobile, and the creature floats towards me leisure, as if it knows I am powerless to stop it. Just when I think it is all over for me, my left palm burns fiercely and a jet stream of white hot water seems to emit from my body towards the creature. It hits squarely in the middle of the blackness and sends it crashing into the cement floor of the pool.

I start to frantically swim towards the pools' edge when a flash of light streaks past me, and I hear the thing screech, disappearing from sight. I look back but see nothing out of the ordinary,except the other girls swimming quickly towards me, and I remember that I am at a swim meet. Without thinking, I burst through the water, and slam into the wall just mere seconds before another girl did, securing my win. I surface, holding my head with one hand, and become aware of the roar of the home crowd, cheering my name. I struggle to get out of the pool and Jax runs over to hoist me up. He wraps my towel around my shoulders as I steady myself on his shoulders.

"Ren, are you okay? I saw you slam into the wall, how's your head?" he asks frantically. I nod, trying to ignore the woozy feeling I got whenever I moved my head too quickly. He walks me over to the bench and sits me down lightly, where the rest of my team offers me congratulations. I try to be happy that they are finally acknowledging my existence, but between what had just happened and smashing headlong into the wall, the words tuned in and out.

I look up at my parents, expecting them to be jumping up and down cheering as they usually do, but they are firmly seated in their seats, heads bent together and whispering urgently to each other. The look on my mother's face is one I've only seen once before, when she got the call that her sister had gone missing. Although she had just jetted off to Barbados for a weekend away from her family, the look of terror on her face was matched to nothing, until now. My father catches my eye and leans away from my mother, giving her a significant look that I cannot comprehend. Did they too see what I saw in the bottom of the pool? Looking at the rest of the crowd, I do not think they sense anything out of the ordinary, otherwise they would all have probably left the premises. It is baffling to me that nobody but myself and maybe my parents saw what I just did, and I wonder if it didn't all happen in my head.

Not really listening to Jax as he continues to prattle on about the race from his point of view, I walk over to the side of the pool and crouch down, squinting into the depths. Nothing was there; no dark figure, no jet stream of water, and no flash of light. I let my fingers trail into the water, hoping something will appear to me, but I have no such luck. Sighing, heavily I stand as Coach comes over to me

"White, that performance nearly gave me a heart attack, but you pulled it out in the end, just like I knew you would," he says, clapping a big hand on my shoulder. I stand strong to not curve forward into the pool from the pressure, and my eyes trail back to the pool depths.

"Something wrong?" he asks quickly, looking towards where my line of sight is going. A frown line creases over his forehead. Not wanting to sound crazy, I shake my head.

"No Coach, just zoning out a bit." I say, and he walks away. I mumble to Jax that I am going to step outside for some fresh air, and ignoring his warning about the cold I walk out onto the outdoor pool deck. I pull my towel closer around me, trying to ignore the stabbing cold air making goosebumps appear on every inch of my flesh. I glance back down at my palm and audibly gasp. The outline of the teardrop, faint just ten minute ago, was now emblazoned boldly on my palm. I close my fingers over my palm and bite my lip, unsure of how I could even begin to explain this new mark to anyone else.

I close my eyes, trying to remember the past few minutes to distract me from the weather. I'm sure that I had seen something, or someone down there, and it had called me that strange name again. Aquaria, just like the other woman did in my dream. What did it all mean? Why had there been the woman from the end of my dream at the bottom of the pool? And where did that flash of light come from?

I shake my head, knowing that there's no way I'm going to figure this all out right now. I feel the cold wetness of a raindrop and realize I'm trembling from head to foot. As I run in back to escape the freezing rain now falling in sheets, my parents rush over to me, having broken from their intense conversation before, scolding me for standing outside in just a swimsuit and a towel and how I could catch my death. I only vaguely hear them; once again I notice I am completely dry just as I was the night of my surprise party. I mentally add that to the list of obscurities that are running through my head.

Later, as I am sitting back in my mother's car with the heat blasting on me, I automatically look down at the mark on my hand and lightly let my fingertips brush over the outline. It's warm to the touch, and almost feels like a comfort to me. I turn it towards my thigh when my mother looks over, and I look out the window, trying to ignore the conflicted look she is wearing on her face. There are so many questions that have been swimming through my head since the day I turned eighteen, and I am no closer to solving any of their mysteries. I can only hope that the days to come will bring me closer to the unknown conclusion I desired more than anything else in the world.