Subtle Waves

She was taken back to the time she first learnt to swim, how she dipped her small toes in to test the waters. Her parents waited in the pool itself, urging her to come forth into the unknown which, accord to their words, said she could stand in it and not drown. She could only imaging that her small body would have frozen and questioned her parents, but nevertheless, her trust in them would trample that questioning. It was very strange that she had such a vivid memory of that moment from very long ago, about 7 years ago, a memory which she couldn’t recall before. She came to reality so slowly that it seemed like a daze, finding herself in front of a room of people, all eyes on her and unsure of what had just happened. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, her hands clenched, her head ached with a soft but distinctive pounding. A muffle sound drifted into her ear only to end with a quick piercing, high-pitched noise like static. The muffled sound became clearer again, and with intervals in between each of them, she could make sense of it slowly. A name. Someone was being called out to.  

“Taleeya?”

That was her name. Name? Her name? It was so strange that she had forgotten it just then. The people in the room couldn’t have known she had forgotten her name, right? They couldn’t, right?

“Taleeya?” 

This time she turned her head to the source. A tall man, about 5’8, in a green blazer and black shirt, furrowed eyebrows, a pen and paper in one hand, the other hand reaching out for her shoulder. She came to life with his touch, he had been talking to her. How long? Who knew. Though she should have known.

“Are you alright?”

She racked her brain for words, trapped in her throat, urging them to come forward like her parents did those 7 years ago, but these words weren’t as trusting. Trust was two way. If she lacked trust in them, of course they would lack trust in her. There was so much hesitation in her ability to speak that she felt choked. She always spoke, Taleeya always spoke. She was loud and boisterous so there never a time where she couldn’t be heard by other people. She stared at the worry in the man’s eyes. Nice green eyes, but dulled down with age. A Mr? This was her teacher. A teacher? Which teacher? Mr Hales. This was English. She was in school. Taleeya was in school, in the middle of an English class, but what?

“You’ve been standing there silently for a few minutes, Tal.”

Minutes? Only a few minutes? Taleeya had just been experiencing some kind of intense joe a vu and taken back to 7 years ago and he can only dare to call that a few minutes? Those were not minutes, those were hours, months, even years to her gone by. 

She found herself trembling, like leaf in a cold storm. It was so strange to see herself like this. The eyes of the children in front of her were all too strange to trigger any memory. She couldn’t seen to remember their names or their relation with her, but definitely, they were her classmates. How had she forgotten? Fear and adrenaline coursed through her body. Help. She needed help. She was just about to move toward her teacher for support, to question all this when a sense of vertigo washed over her. It felt like Taleeya’s whole being, mind and soul, had been yanked out of her body, thrown around and ditched right back into her. Like an out of body experience. She was no longer in control of her body and found her lungs tightening. Her throat closed in on itself and her hands clammed up. She subtly rubbed the moister on her hands away on her uniform, confused at her lack of control. She brought her hand up and couldn’t feel any more embarrassed by the earthquake that racked her body. Her hands moved like they were ready to jump off and fly away, her eyes became narrowed and blurry. 

She began feeling her heart pound in her chest, the blood racing through each vessel and reaching her ears, muffling them and the pounding in her head returned. Taleeya was so close to asking for help until a wheeze left her lips. Had her throat actually closed up on her? What for? She wasn’t sick, she wasn’t ill, she had no injuries. She could’t help but feel like scratching her throat out, to rid herself of that burning sensation as she hyperventilated. No one came to her rescue, so was she actually hyperventilating? Or was this all in her head like the de ja vu? There was fear in her body, brewing and ready to spill out from her eyes. Taleeya never cried. She was tough and cool, that was her personality, but the complete one-eighty degree turn had baffled her. She turned around immediately, too embarrassed to cry in front of the class of strangers and once she did, she found her eyes squinting at a glow of light. On the board behind her was a screen, a square screen with a title. This was a keynote. Taleeya was giving a presentation. In the middle of class. She had bene standing there far too long for it to be minutes, at least to her. Her first presentation and she had been trembling the whole time whilst the people watched. She had been thinking of it all, like these were her last moments, her seven monies of flashbacks before she passed away, and truly, she wished she passed for who would want to be here after panicking. 

Taleeya didn’t hesitate when her name was called by her teacher. She went for the door, reaching to her saviour and out the door. She didn’t run, she knew what happened when people cloudily breathe and the ran. Only logical people knew that would stress their body out even more and most likely pass out. Taleeya walked, one foot ahead the other her eyes downcast letting droplets of fear fall from her eyes. Her knees buckled each time, like there truely was an earthquake happening beneath her feet. She took all the time she needed in the girls bathroom, silencing her lofty cries and coughed the remaining panic out of her lungs. Each time she remembered the humour and pity in the eyes of that class of strangers her head pounded all the more. They definitely made fun of her. Of course they would. Of course they would. Who cries in class? Who stands there looking like and idiot? Her, it’s all her. Only her. If she couldn’t properly remember her name, her class, her teacher and the situation, how could she remember her first time in the pool? The anxiety and nervousness riddled her, coming and going as they pleased the same way she used to watch the pool splash left and right. In her eyes back then, they would have looked like big waves. Nevertheless, she could’t help but feel she never actually jumped in to the pool.