Drowning Yet Not Broken

 The night I first saw her, I knew she would be the end of me.

 I was down on my luck. One of those spirals that musicians sing about, and poets wrote about.

 The kind of depression where I was on autopilot.

 No one could move me away from my sorrows. Until I met her.

 I was drunk walking back to my apartment from the bar down the street.

 Tequila was coating my tongue with Hennessey already in my belly. I knew better not to mix. I just didn’t care anymore. A drink was a drink.

 It was obscenely windy; the orange glow of the street lights casting its ominous shadows on the slightly wet pavement.

 It was quiet at this witching hour. The last bar stragglers were yelling bye at me as I turned and left.

 I muttered some incoherent parting; pulling my jean jacket tighter around me. My footsteps echoing unevenly as I slowly made my way.

 The wind blew my hair about my head and I just knew my night time hair routine was going to suck. I mentally shuddered. Having that beautiful big curly hair was fun, until it was time to do it.

 That’s when I felt the shift in the air….a slight electrical charge that gave me chills.

  I stopped walking just near a closed old record store. My instincts told me to turn around. That’s when I saw her. Just a pale silhouette. Standing underneath the street light. A lone bag floating behind her.

 She stood there stark naked. The ominous night tones and moonlight playing across her skin, like a cinematographer directed the scene.

 At first I didn’t know what to think. I was inebriated. And a naked woman in the middle of a downtown Midwestern city, wasn’t that normal.

 As a woman myself, my protective nature kicked in.

 She looked about my age; 30 or younger. Was also astonishingly beautiful.

 “Are you ok?” I asked her.

 Her long blonde hair fell to the side as she regarded me. “Are you cold?” She asked.

 Confused I made a face looking around. I also had to be careful. She obviously wasn’t sane.

 “My name is Thora. I would like some assistance,” she said awkwardly, in a way like she wasn’t used to english as her first language.

 The way she spoke seemed to carry on the breeze. Making the hair on my arms stand up.

 My thoughts warred within me. What if she was in danger? What if she was the danger? Should I call the police?

 Before I could decide, she did for me. She walked closer. Or I should say; she glided. For there were no footsteps since her feet were no longer on the ground.

 Fear told me to run, yet logic told me it had to be my drunkenness. That I was hallucinating.

 “You are lost.” She said looking down into my eyes.

 She was taller than me up close and her eyes were the clearest gray I’d ever seen. Her features near perfectly symmetrical. Her eyebrows were near white. She was ethereal looking.

 I swallowed. “No, I’m not lost. I’m on my way home.”

 Once more she tilted her head to the side. The fall of her light blonde hair shimmering. “Could I come with you?”

  The way she looked into my eyes stole my breath. I couldn’t move. The wind seemed to pick up between us and I just knew I couldn’t leave her out there alone.

 Removing my jacket I draped it over her shoulders. She stood motionless watching me with her clear irises. Her pupils black and imposing.

 After I got the jacket around her I looked around making sure we were safe.

 “I live just over there. Please come.”

 She followed obediently, gazing at me thoughtfully.

 Up close, she smelled like the night air. I couldn’t describe her scent any other way, besides she smelled like fresh wind.

 We walked quietly. Me being careful to avoid glass since she was barefooted.

 We traded glances a couple times and she smiled sweetly.

 Once in my building, she seemed more unsure as we made our way in and up the dark blue carpeted stairs. The plain white walls seemed too bland for someone as beautiful as her.

 She watched me step and seemed to copy my movements as we headed up.

 The longer I was around her, the more sober I was becoming. Which wasn’t a bad thing since she was a stranger.

 At my door, in the dim florescent light, she seemed entirely foreign next to my brown short self.

 She was very pale and blonde. Like she came from some Viking show on TV. Or she was a model. What did she want to do with me?

 I opened my door wearily and she followed me inside.

 Hitting the switch on the light, I closed the door behind us sealing my fate.

 Thora, as she called herself looked around curiously.

 “This is a lovely home Drea.”

  I stepped back. “How do you know my name?”

 Her expression softened. “I’ve known your name before you did. It whispered through the trees and through my hair, into my ear, the night you were conceived. Then I found you again years later. You were never far.”

 Yeah. I had messed up big time. This woman was a stalker and crazy.

 “I don’t know who you are lady, but you’re being creepy. So I think I’ll just give you some pants, a shirt and send you on your way.”

 She laughed, her voice doing that odd echo as if we were in a large auditorium. “Even though you think I’m crazy, you are being hospitable towards me. Why?”

 I sighed, too tired and now sober for whatever this was. “I’m going to get you a shirt and sweats. You just, stay here. Don’t do anything creepier.”

 She smiled, showing white, even teeth; raising up her hands innocently. It opened the jacket revealing her fully again and I looked away quickly.

 Groaning, I headed towards my bedroom cursing to myself.

 Only would I, have let a crazy naked woman into my apartment. Only me.

 “You’re just nice. Don’t beat yourself up. But you should be more safe Drea.”

 I turned around and there she was in my doorway. My small bedroom seeming too small for her presence.

 “How do you know my name?” I questioned again, this time I was shaking. Fear planting my feet, even though I sensed no danger.

 “February 14, 2017. You drove drunk off the waterloo bridge after a night out. You were 17. You ever wondered how you were rescued from the car, before it hit the icy cold water?”

 My gut churned at the mention of that accident. I still hadn’t got through the trauma of it and had pretty much let it ruin my life.

 I didn’t go to college. I didn’t amount to anything. I paid my bills. I worked my office job and I drank my sorrows down every few days. 

 Everyday I told myself I didn’t have a problem. That I was just having fun. The truth was I was still in that car from that night. And I was drowning in that icy lake.

 Tears entered my gaze. “You couldn’t of been there. No one knows I wasn’t in the car. How do you know that?” I cried.

 Right before my eyes her skin started to go translucent and then she was gone replaced by a soft warm breeze. It blew through my room, up across my nape, over my arms, then my face. I gasped at how good it felt. How familiar.

 Shock vibrated it’s way up my spine as she reappeared. This time holding my hand. Her touch sending that airy, tingling, warm feeling into my palm.

 I stood frozen as she let her hand fade once more into nothing, then it reappeared. This time I saw it up close.

 I wasn’t hallucinating. Or drunk. She was real.

 “I was there with you that night Drea. I’ve been there with you most nights since. I’m not supposed to interfere or reveal myself. Just you aren’t doing well and I need to help you. Just like that night.”

 Her sincerity stole my breath even more than her beauty.

 “You saved me?”

 Her clear eyes zeroed in on mine. “Yes. I took the door off the hinges in mid air and got you out. Floated you down to the bank.”

 Hints of memory pushed its way into my mind. I never let them stay, however now I had to acknowledge the truth.

  “I think I remember you holding me after. You rocked me to sleep in your arms. I woke up when the cops got there. They assumed I got out of the car and swam ashore. I just told them I didn’t remember. I just figured you were my drunk mind trying to comfort me from my mess up.”

 Thora squeezed my hand, “You almost died. And right now you’ve been slowly killing yourself since. You need to let go. To forgive yourself.”

  Her words hit me hard enough I moved back but she held on. “What do you want from me?” I demanded, my stomach and chest tight with emotions I let control me.

 She gently rubbed my hand. “I want to love you Drea. Yet I know you have to first love yourself and you haven’t ever.”

 Tears ran down my face. “I don’t even know what or who you are. How can you love me?”

 She reached over wiping my tears. Her touch soft. “I am just a wind spirit. And you know me. Each day you ever felt the wind caress your cheek, it was me giving you a kiss of greeting. Anytime you were warm and needed a cool down, I was hugging you. I know each strand of your hair. Each tear you ever cried, that floated on my breeze since that night. How could I not love you?”

 Looking into her eyes I couldn’t doubt a word she was saying. It was there as naked and true as she first stood before me.

 No one had ever looked at me that way. No one.

 Yes, there was a familiarity in her presence, in her warmth. I did know her.

 So there it was; the death of me. Of who I was. Who I had been.

 Thora was my beginning and my journey with her was the start of the new me.

 She came into my life and like the wind she was; swept me away with her love and compassion.

 The old Drea was dead and gone. And no one mourned her loss. Least of all; me.