The water brushed coolly against her toes. Sitting on the dock, splinters scratched at her exposed skin. Somewhere behind her, the sun was setting. For some, the day was ending. For other’s, the day was just beginning. Lifting her heavy hand towards her lips, she inhaled. The water sitting in front of her looked calm, peaceful. She dreamed of jumping into it, letting it engulf her. She would feel it surround her, pull her under. She dreamed of the way it would turn everything black. Finally her mind wouldn’t constantly be filled with thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

Shifting her weight, she noticed them walking towards her. That was the last thing she needed. She needed vodka, to pass out. Nothing good would come from being surrounded by people, and questions. “Nothing,” she answered, inhaling again, feeling smoke burning her lungs. Would drowning feel like that; burning lungs? “Just thinking.”

The four of them sat down, surrounding her, two on each side. The feeling of them surrounding her made it feel like she was suffocating. The lake was her place to escape, to run away from everything. No one was supposed to find her here. She wanted to scream, but feared that her words would never be heard. “You were supposed to come out for dinner,” was she? She couldn’t remember even being asked. Maybe she had been asked in one of her drunken hazes. Sometimes the phone rang, she spoke words, but it felt too dreamlike to be real.

“I got busy.”

He took her hand, the others looked on. He had never held her hand like that before. She wanted to pull away, to push him away. She didn’t like the softness of his skin against her own. “We’re worried about you.”

“Worried,” her voice was loud. Laughing. She never laughed anymore. They stared in her direction, almost shocked. She inhaled again. “Why are you worried about me?” A pause, more laughing. She wanted to jump into the water. She wanted to disappear forever. “I’m fine.”

There was another voice, another worry. “You’re not fine, you’re,” A pause; she watched her friend bite her lip. Her makeup was always so perfect, etched upon her face like a painting. If only she could have been as beautiful as she was, “you’re sick.” Anger rose in her body. They didn’t know anything. This was her place to be alone. They had no right to find her. This was her wonderland; there may have been no white rabbit, or queen, but it was wonderland. She was anything she wanted to be on that wharf. Anything she wanted to be. And right now she wanted to be alone.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested. Grabbing her matches, she struck it against the dock. Her only escape would be the water, but she could already feel the way they would grab her, dragging her away. Where was her bag, had she lost it already? She began to wonder if she had even brought a bag. “I don’t have to sit here and take this.” She wanted to stand, but her legs were too heavy. Dropping her legs, she was splashed with water.

Someone reached into a bag—her bag, she would realize later when the haze wore off—and pulled out her secrets. Her notebook was first, the pretty pictures of perfection. Next came the pills; laxative, caffeine pill, diuretics. She looked away as they passed through hands. Even as they lay sprawled out on her legs, she didn’t look down. Those were her secrets, like the words in her book. Half naked pictures of her own body with the words “FAT”, “PIG”, “FAILURE” written across them stared towards her. The shame washed across her face. No one would ever understand. They didn’t need to have to understand.

“When was the last time you ate?” Someone asked.

“Why are you taking these?” Another asked, pills in hand.

The voices filled her head, mixing with her own. She tried to push everything away. Escape, she needed to escape. Even before she knew it, she was standing on the edge of the dock. No one could stop her; no one could hold her back. Hands outstretched, she felt the water surrounding her, engulfing her body. Silk hung at her thighs. She fought the urge to scream, to cry. Unmoving, she stared through the water towards the darkening sky. This would be it, this would be the end.

And then she was moving, rising. Arms wrapped around her, surrounded her body, and pulled. Rising higher and higher, she found herself staring into the starry sky. The heat of summer couldn’t keep her body from shivering. Voices were surrounding her, but none of the language made sense. Words were misplaced. Voices didn’t belong to people. She wondered if maybe she had made it to wonderland after all.

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Someone whispered, hoping she could hear. There voices came out as panicked mumbles.

“A hospital won’t help.”

“She needs friends, us.”

Laying there, shivering in the hot summer night, she lit another cigarette, hoping this one would do it; blacken her lungs, take away her breath. With shaking hands she raised it to her lips.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” a shooting star whizzed by. She wished she could fly with it. Take her away. “But I know we have to do something. She needs us.”

Arms lifted her, pulling her along the dock towards the car. In the back seat, she stared up towards worried faces. Her emotions were exhausted, and she wanted another smoke. Someone had found her purse, but she didn’t know where. “I want to go home,” she begged, trying to lift her head. The weight of her thoughts was too much, and it fell crashed against the seat. “Let me out,” she could feel acid burning the back of her throat.

“No,” someone protested. The click of the locking door rang in her head.

Trees ran past the car, speeding. “Where are we going?” there was only silence, and the brightness of street lamps in her eyes. Every so often, the car would pause, and then slowly start again. She wondered if the stars were dancing on the lake again. She wanted to dance with them. Her friends wouldn’t look at her; some of them had tears in there eyes. The voice filled her head, laughing. It called them names, but called her worse. “Where are we going?” She repeated again, wishing she could rid herself of that voice.

“We’re going home.” She felt a hand on her knees, and wanted desperately to pull back. The backseat was crowded with bodies.

The bed was soft. Pillows, blankets, surrounded her, comforting her. Her head was heavy, and she felt lost. Her bag was missing, and she felt herself growing. Soon she would spill out from the bed, crushing everyone. Her body would fill the apartment, growing and growing until she filled everything. Reaching out, she tried to find them even in her sleep. She didn’t know her friends were sitting in front of the fireplace, ripping her book to shreds, burning every page. She didn’t know they were reading her words—her stories—and gasping in shock. Standing around the toilet, they flushed everything else; her pills, her cigarettes, and the energy drinks they kept her alive.

“They’re going to ruin you,” the voice in her head told her. She stood in front of her, watched her move. She was graceful, beautiful. Her arms were long, and her head shook disapprovingly. “All you’ve accomplished. They’re going to ruin you.”

“She’s going to be okay?” One of her friends asked, standing outside the bedroom door.

No one answered. No one knew. And in her dreams she dreamt of diving into the water. It would surround her, save her. No voices filled her head there. And as she looked up towards the blurry dock, she saw that face again. Her own. She shook her head, thin arms crossed against her chest. No matter how much she tried to escape, she knew there was no where to go.

“Not perfect yet.”