Hidden Depths

We all have hidden depths. Little thoughts at the backs of our minds, providing a door to a deeper, darker place: a place where we secretly and subconsciously know what will happen. This is our connection to the world; our intuition.

These little thoughts may spring up before we cross a road; just a split second decision to wait that little bit longer… then a speeding car swerves round the corner. Had we been crossing the road, we would have been dead.

These little thoughts can also creep into our dreams, perhaps waking us up a little earlier with images of missing the bus. Then we discover our alarm clock has stopped, and we would have been late had we not dreamed about it.

Sophie had these depths. But unlike the rest of us, hers weren’t so hidden. In her dreams, Sophie saw the future…

She was dreaming. Dreaming of darkness. The night sky, speckled with stars, danced and rippled above her. She soon realised she was under water, looking up at its tranquil, glassy surface as she sank down. She tried to swim, but her muscles were weak. There was muffled shouting, but her hearing was fading. There was movement in the water, frantic splashing disturbing the surface as a hero came to her rescue, but her eyes were closing. Her heart was beating, but to no avail. So it stopped. And in the silence of the sea she drifted down, down, down. Down into darkness. Down onto a soft, cushiony surface. It was her bed, and Sophie opened her eyes.

She could hear and see and move again. Adorning a dressing-gown, she arose from bed and crossed the carpeted-floor to the balcony doors she’d left open that night. The curtains came up softly in the wind to greet her, licking her at her skin with silken tongues as she stepped out onto the balcony. It was still dark outside. The stars twinkled merrily in the sky, and the moon’s reflection was like liquid diamond sparkling on a crystal ocean surface. The waves gave a gentle rush on the shore as she looked out across the bay, and a crisp night breeze ruffled her hair, causing her to draw the dressing-gown ever so slightly tighter around herself.

She had seen her own death. This she knew. But she was calm. She had seen herself die in her mind’s-eye before, and just as she had avoided back alleys and busy roads then, so would she avoid swimming now. She knew she would be hard pressed to, being on a tropical island holiday with her parents, but Sophie would not swim at all, especially at night, in her remaining week at Cocoa Bay. She would not cross the beach after dark, and she would not be alone. Afterall, her new boyfriend was the trainee lifeguard. And as dreams are so fleeting in our memories, she had already forgotten seeing his face in the water as he vainly attempted to save her life.

Sophie had met Tom during her first week at Cocoa bay. She’d seen him at school before, and on the plane, but had never gotten to know him until after they’d landed. In the second week, he had asked her out, but in the third and final week of her stay, he asked her a question she had to say no to:

“You know the beach party’s tonight, wanna come?”

A rush of adreneline tingled through her and the dream flashed before her eyes: a vision of her death.

“N-no,” she tried not to sound as panicked as she felt, “I’d rather not, if that’s O.K.”

“Why not?” Had he noticed her tone?

“Em… I just, don’t really feel like it, that’s all. I’d rather stay in.”

“Come on Sophie, it’s our last week together. You know I have to stay here for the holidays and do lifeguard stuff. We won’t see each other again until school starts,” he pleaded. “Look, we don’t even have to be at the party. We can just go for a walk alone,”

‘Alone?’ she thought.

“Go for a swim maybe?”

‘Swim?!’

“No!” she panicked, coughing to hide her fearful tone, “I don’t feel well.”

He didn’t seem to notice. He just looked disappointed. She couldn’t stand that look, and her heart ruled her head at the deadliest of times as she said, “Alright, for a little while.”

The beach was alive with noise and colour that night. Bikini and bathing suit clad teenagers, wearing glow-in-the-dark jewellery and flashing lights and brightly coloured bangles, moved to music blaring from someone’s monstrous speakers. A huge bonfire cast dancing shadows and an eerie orange glow over the party goers. It was loud, crowed and baking hot (not three of Sophie’s favourite things) but just then Tom took her hand and pointed out a lonely piece of coast-line.

He led her there, walking quietly yet purposefully under the glittering blanket of stars overhead. The warm night was cooled as a breeze drifted lazily up from the sea. It lifted refreshing ocean spray to their faces and murmured gently through the tall grasses, swaying dreamily as if to their own tune. It was magical.

They walked to the edge of the beach where the sand was wet and warm water played at their feet. Sophie was so swept up in the moment that she agreed to Tom’s suggestion of a swim. She’d stay in shallow water. Her death awaited her in the depths by the cliffs, not here on the shoreline. She waded in waist deep and they swam around together, splashing and laughing, kissing and talking. What would they do when school started? When would they see each other again? Then danger came.

They had a race, Tom giving her a head start, letting her win. She was enjoying herself until she saw the moon peer over the foliage-covered cliffs looming toward her. She panicked, a new gripping trepidation compelling her to turn back.

She stopped, expecting her feet to touch sand, its unstable solidity saving her so she could turn to swim back. But she discovered the hidden depth from her dream.

The ocean floor dropped away into a yawning chasm with jagged edges like teeth. It opened wide its jaws and let her fall.

Her nightmare came true in that moment, as she sank below the surface. The dark depths rose around her and engulfed her. Her muscles were tired and her brain whispered ‘I-told-you-so’s in her mind. But even those hushed voices were growing quiet, as were Tom’s cries. There he was now, just as in the dream, fighting to reach her in time.

But wait, he was closer this time. The feeling returned in her limbs and she looked about her. The chasm’s centre was quite far away. Her sudden realisation of danger had saved her, she’d turned back before she would have; she’d stopped when she saw the cliffs and remembered her dream. Now she had a chance.

She wasn’t far from the chasm wall. She managed to swim to it despite aching muscles and climb up, propelling herself towards the moonlight. Her lungs were burning, but Tom reached her and helped her as she kicked with all her remaining strength towards the surface. The air finally escaped her lungs. Just a little farther. There was the sand, the shore, and she threw herself upon it.

The tropical night air filled her lungs and she was grateful as she gasped it up. A few people, this time near enough to hear Tom’s shouts for help, had rushed to their aid. The music had stopped and ambulance sirens could be heard coming closer through the still night air.

“Are you O.K. Sophie?” Tom asked, also breathing hard.

She breathed deeply and said “That’ll teach me won’t it?”

Of course he didn’t know what she really meant, but they both smiled all the same. A blanket appeared around hear of their shoulders and they were helped to an ambulance to be checked over.

So, the next time you miss a bus in a dream or feel the urge to wait a few seconds at a roadside, remember to trust those little thoughts; they could save your life some day.

3

Jayne Ferris