The Psychic Within

Chapter 4: Promise

The water was cold and impenetrably dark. It pressed in from all angles, pulling me down. I thrashed my limbs, trying to find the surface, but I couldn't. There was no light to tell me which way was up. No light at all... It felt like swimming in oblivion.

Shudders pulsed through me as the cold seeped through my clothes and into my skin. My muscles ached, and my lungs burned with the effort of holding my breath. How long could I keep this up? How long did I have to find a way out?

Am I going to die here?

I pedalled faster through the frigid water, desperation propelling me to fight, fight even though I was lost and blind and quickly running out of air.

Something brushed against my leg, slithering by in the darkness. I span around in the water, but I couldn't see anything in the black. It came again, sliding against my back, slimy against exposed skin. I turned again, but the darkness gave nothing away.

Then, out of the darkness, the same slimy thing shot out, wound around my neck, and—

I gasped, and my eyes fluttered open. I was no longer in the water, but on dry land. On a dry floor, actually.

Murmurs swirled above me.

"What happened?"

"—and she fainted, in the middle of the—"

"What's that on her arm?"

My whole body tensed as I realized where I was—on the floor of the crowded café. I knew I couldn't just lay here forever, that I would have to sit up, but I couldn't seem to make myself move.

Phyllis came into sight as she leaned over me. "Rachel? Rachel, honey, are you okay?"

"I... I think so," I mumbled. My voice weak and rough, and my throat felt strangely sore.

"Can you sit up?" She gently placing her hand on my arm. "Do you need help?"

Though I would've preferred to sink into the ground and disappear right then and there, I managed a nod.

Two figures moved above me, took hold, and pulled me up into a nearby chair. The change in elevation made my vision sway and bob. I blinked hard, twice, to right it.

Once I was level again, I met with a hundred curious stares from the coffee shop's patrons. The heat of shame blazed through me. Wishing to escape—but too weak to move—I could only hide my face in my hands. My fingers grazed against a tender spot on my cheekbone; that must've been where my face had met with floor.

"Here," came a voice. I peered out from between my fingers and saw the purple-haired barista was back. She placed a tall plastic cup filled with ice water in front of me.  She gave me a heartening smile, and then disappeared into the crowd again.

"Thank you, Chloe," Phyllis called after her employee. She took the seat across from me. We were back at the paper-covered table, my resume still sitting between us, taunting me with my dashed hopes.

"Have a drink," Phyllis said, pulling me from my thoughts. A sweet smile spread across her face, making the corners of her eyes crinkle up and she pointed at the cup. "It'll make you feel better."

I reached for the cup, my hands shaking. Pulling it close, I took a sip from the green straw. The water felt good on my dry throat. I took another deep drink, and slowly the fog in my mind began to clear.

"Better?" she asked after I had managed sucked back half the cup.

I nodded again as I felt a new wave of warmth spread across my cheeks. "I'm really, really sorry about—"