Un-Stuck

The sun beats down blindingly and my eyes squint behind my glasses. Your hand is sweating, I can feel it from your palm. We met behind the plaza in between our houses. No one ever finds us here. I have about twenty minutes before someone figures out that I am missing, that the screen from my window is not in properly. You run your fingers through my hair, making it all fuzzy, like we have been doing something naughty. We haven't. I swat your hand away and brush away cookie crumbs from your lip. We always do this. Go into the 7/11 and buy a snack for each other rather than buying our own. We don't make enough for presents yet so Oreo cookies are my way of saying that I can't stop thinking about you. You pull a Twizzler out of the package in my hand and put one in my mouth. They always taste sweeter when you're feeding them to me. I pull up my sunglasses and stare into your eyes. They are grey today, that means you're excited, maybe to see me. You break open half of y...

She looked at him as if she saw a monster. His face morphed into something ghastly with tendrils of mucus flying off of his sharp teeth and black haunting eyes threatening to suck out her soul through her irises. Her body failed any method of protective precautions and completely shut down instead of fleeing like her brain shouted to do. A growl emitted from the back of his throat, sending a wave of nausea from the pit of her stomach up her esophagus. She was backed into a corner, the moist stone wall pressed right up against her back. She willed her body to melt into the stone, pushing herself so close to it the sharp ridges broke the thin skin of her shoulders. He forced his body almost against hers, threatening to engulf her, eliminating any sight lines around his burly frame. Where was there to go? A frenzied smile played with the edge of his mouth, a laugh so baritone pulsed through her rib cage, shaking each strand of veins attached to her heart. “Don’t fuss, my sweet.” He hissed...

The ways in which her fingers came through the cracks were as if to pull him back or maybe to push him further down, away from her reach. He tried to bite at them, tear the nail from its bed. He couldn't risk her motives, however innocent they may be, however she chose to plead. He wished an electric shock would pulse through, singeing her skin, stopping her heart for a moment,  maybe, for a couple seconds so he could get away from her maniac intentions, her maniac words that aim to pull him in or push him down beyond every single crack that separates their fingers.

It was a cold shock. The water pressure pushing against my body, threatening to wrap around my lungs and crush them. Each wave dragging me further out until I was caught. The under current keeping me trapped below the surface as if it were claiming me. I am not my own. I am a part of the sea, an ocean jailing me as prisoner against its rising tides. My mouth fills with water, traveling down my throat and into my chest. It weaves its way through my veins, turning blood into ocean and air into salt. I will succumb to it, let it carry me out, carry me across to different worlds. There is nothing else for me here. I am a part of the sea.