The Dream

I watched through the window as rain pounded on the pavement, my eyes sore from just waking.

Today was a Sunday, although Dad still had to work today. He always worked weekends because, as he said it, his job was NOT easygoing. I never really bothered asking what his job was; I had more concerning things, like school and homework.

I sat on the couch and fingered the hem of the purple knit sweater I was wearing. An "S" for Sophia was stitched in shiny silver thread. My grandmother had made it for me two years ago, before she passed away.

I sat there watching the rain, glumly trying to think of what I was going to do with my day. The coronavirus was spreading, they had said on the news. I didn't want to go outside anyway.

I spread out on the couch, my arms outstretched, and looked around the room. My eyes caught on the stove, and I thought about cooking something until I remembered I wasn't allowed to. Despite being twelve years old, my dad wouldn't let me use the stove when I was home alone.

Instead, I made cereal, which was unfitting since the clock above the microwave read 1:24 PM, but I ate it anyway. I hadn't realized I had slept in that late.

I sat in front of a portrait that had been taken when I was six, back when I truly had a family. My long brown hair was in two loopy plaits that mom had gently braided with her soft fingers that day. My blue sleeveless flower dress was ironed just for the occasion.

In the photo, I was between my equally elegant mom and my dad. You couldn't see below our stomachs, but you could tell from our posture that we were sitting. My dad's shoulders looked relaxed for once.

We all smiled at the camera, and I showed my small, square little teeth. I was missing one of my front ones, and I recalled being so joyful losing it. Mom said it was good luck to lose one of the front ones first.

I tore my eyes away from the portrait and stood up, suddenly sad. After rinsing my bowl in the sink and setting it on the counter to wash later, my eyes caught on my half-finished biology essay. I bit my lip, silently cursing that I had forgotten to finish it, and slid it across the table, sitting down.

I tried my best to finish it. After thirty minutes, I gave up looking for the right words and copied results from my laptop. I sighed and rested my head on the table, my eyes closing slowly. I was so tired . . . .

I jolted up, a loud pound ringing in my ear. I gasped and clutched the left side of my head, compressing the pain. I felt blood creep down my hand, but the pain was gone and I could hear fine. I pulled my hand away and watched in panic as the blood turned clear and dissolved.

I was panting now, my eyes wide with horror. My hand felt far away. Then the sound of rushing waves came out of nowhere, and water began to spill from the hallway. I sucked in a rush of air and coughed, unable to scream but wishing I could. I stumbled forward and my world distorted, the water surrounding my ankles. It grew by the minute.

I spun around to watch the window. The rain was pounding even harder than it had been earlier. I could hardly see outside.

Furniture began to slide to the right, and so did I. This time I did scream.

Then I fell into the water, and my scream was cut short. Water filled up my mouth and I choked and coughed. This couldn't happen- I was too young to drown-

It seemed like I was under for hours. All I could do was think and cry. My mind raced with questions, but one question re-occurred.

What is happening?

I resurfaced, gasped for breath, and then was pulled back under. I had to get to the door. And then I suddenly remembered. My cat.

Swam up to the top and called out. "PEPPER!" I screeched. Something dark was making a splash over on the other side of the room. The scrawny animal turned to look at me, black fur wet and hugging her small frame in spikes. I almost laughed at her large green eyes before screeching again. "PEPP-ER! COME HERE!" 

The feline yowled and frantically paddled away from me, scrambling onto a floating box that once held photographs from my trip to California over the summer. That photos had washed away by now. I sloppily swam over to her and scooped her up in my arms. She hissed as we both tumbled back into the water, and I felt her claws slice the skin on my arm. I scowled and used one hand to paddle back up to the surface again. I began to push the water away from me like my life depended on it. It did.

I refused to look anywhere but the door, thinking it would boost my motivation, but it turned out to be a big mistake when I realized I had been swimming in place for three minutes. The water was now up further.

I fought back a sob when the portrait of me and my parents was engulfed in water. Pepper had stopped flailing and was now watching me, clearly horrified. I swam as well as I could with one arm, but I seemed to be getting nowhere. I tried to push off of the wall, but the water fought me. And then I sank.

My arms were limp from struggling. I dropped Pepper. I couldn't tell if she sank with me or floated.

All hope was lost. My chest was tight. I stared blankly up at the bubbles that came from my nose. I ran out of air.

And then I woke up. My eyes were heavy when I rubbed them. I was sitting in my chair at the desk in the living room. I gasped and turned around. No water. The painting was snug on the wall. 

I looked up at the clock on the microwave. It was now 3:49, one hour from when I had put my head down to rest and ended up falling asleep. 

In my dream it had felt like it was all eternity.

I watched Pepper purring on the cough for a while before coming over to join her.

The rain had cleared.

I wondered what would happen next time I fell asleep.