Swimming through deep water, searching for land, his hand reached out to grab ahold of what appeared to be someone's hand that he soon realizes isn't there. The ocean water was rough against his raw, cold skin, but he continued on in search of a safe haven. He screamed for help, but his voice made no sound. His body grew tired. Slowly, slowly he began to go under. Nothing or no one could save him. He was dying; dying alone.
"AHHH!!!" Peter screamed. Davy hopped out of bed and woke him up. Sweat soaked his pajamas.
"What 'appened?" Davy asked.
Peter removed his slumber cap, "I don't know. All I remember, I was drowning. I was all alone and dying."
Peter shook his head, "Forget it. Go back to sleep." he laid back down and closed his eyes. Davy watched his friend and roommate for nearly ten minutes, making sure he was asleep before doing the same.
Gasping for air, Peter pushed his body upward, trying to save himself.
"Peter, Peter, don't die! Please don't die!" A gently female voice pleaded.
"I...I...can't make it." he cried.
"Yes, you can. You must---for me."
Peter pushed higher, trying to free himself from the volatile ocean. "I can't!" he panicked.
"Peter, you can---you can!"
Her face became clearer in his water logged eyes.... He sat up in bed to catch his breath. He looked over to Davy who was fast to sleep. He quietly got out of bed and slipped out of the bedroom before Davy woke up. He slowly walked down the spiral staircase and into the living room. It was the fourth night in a row he had the same dream, only this time, he nealy died. It had been four months since his girlfriend Lynn's passing. He thought finally he was getting passed it, but matter how hard he tried, he coninued to be saddened by her untimely death. He sat down on couch and buried his face in his hands. "Why Lynn, why did you have to die?!" Tears flowed heavily fom his head. "Why did you leave me?!" he whispered.
Mike approached Peter and laid his hand on his shoulder. "Still thinking about her?"
"Listen buddy, no one expects you to get over her death. We hope you will let us help you through this."
"I know...I just wish I were able to help her."
"I know." Mike whispered.
Peter laid down or the couch and closed his eyes. Mike sat down next to him and covered Peter with blanket.
Morning arrived. Sun beamed through the slightly cracked window in the kitchen. Peter woke up and walked zombie like into the bathroom. He wasn't sure if he could function through the day. The night before wore him out.
He finished cleaning himself up and walked in the kitchen to fix breakfast.
Micky sat at the table sipping orange juice. "Long night huh?"
"Yeah, I'm not sure what to do."
Micky finished his glass of juice. "Neither do I Pete, but I gotta tell you, if you don't snap out of this soon, we won't be able to save you."
Peter slammed his juice glass to the table, watching it shatter into pieces. "Micky, Lynn has been dead for only four months. It may seem forever to you, but it was like yesterday I received that phone call from her mother! Everytime I close my eyes, it's happening all over again!"
Micky lowered his eyes. "I"m sorry Peter."
Peter dismissed himself and walked back upstairs. He sat down on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes. His mind wandered back to their first encounter.
Peter sat in the park, strumming his guitar, trying to come up with new songs for the group. His mind, for some reason, was totally devoid of any thoughts or ideas. "To hell with it." he cursed. He laid the guitar down and leaned back on the grass. He looked around at all of the happy couples. It felt like years since he'd been in a meaningful relationship. He had many one night stands, but nothing significant.
"Excuse me." a female voice said.
Peter looked back. "Yeah?"
"You're on my blanket. Could you move please."
"Oh, sorry." he sat up.
She snatched the blanket and folded it up. "No, privacy at all, no matter where I go." she mumbled.
"Sorry." Peter whispered.
"Sure." she picked up her things and began walking away.
"You don't have to..." he lowered his head, "leave." He noticed a notebook she dropped in her hurry to leave. He picked up it up. He didn't want to be nosey, but curosity got the best of him. He open the book, flipping through the pages. There was only one passage on each page, nothing else, which read
Peter lowered the book, puzzled at the ominous words.
"Are you done invading my privacy?" she grabbed the book from Peter's possession. Her long raven hair fanning her exotically beautiful tanned face. Her deep blue eyes showing hurt and utter despair.
"I'm sorry." Peter said. "I didn't mean..."
"Yeah, sure you didn't." she frowned.
"I am sorry. Really I am."
"Whatever." she sighed.
Peter softly touched her hand. "Why do you feel you're drowning."
"None of your business...I gotta go." she turned and walked away.
A few days later, the mystery girl sat in the same place, writing inside the notebook. Peter quietly sat down and closed his eyes.
"Are you following me?" she asked.
"Are you following me?" she repeated.
"You must be paranoid." he chuckled.
The girl began to gather her belongings.
"What a minute. It was a joke. I'm sorry. No need to leave. I'll go." He stood.
"You are a nice guy aren't you?" she questioned.
"I don't know. I guess. Is that a problem?"
"Nice guys don't exist. There is no such as a nice guy."
Peter put his hands in his pockets. "Whatever you say."
She looked down to the ground, "My name is Lynn."
Peter politely smiled. "I'm Peter."
"Did you understand what I was writing in my notebook, Peter?"
"I take it has nothing to do with swimming."
Lynn's blue eyes turned darker. "No, it has nothing to do with water, at all."
Peter came in a bit closer. "Are you afraid?"
"Do I look afraid?" she asked.
"No...I'm trying to understand why you believe you are drowning."
"Why is it easier to talk to strangers rather than people you know and suppposedly trust?"
Peter shrugged his shoulders, "I guess because a stranger would tell you the truth. They have no attachment to you. It's all or nothing with a stranger."
Lynn's eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to die Peter and I don't know how to stop it."
"Are you sick?" he asked.
She shook her head, "No."
"So how could you be so sure you're dying?"
"I shouldn't be telling you this." she wiped her eyes.
"Lynn, I'd like to help, but if you don't tell me what it is, my hands are tied."
She looked innocently into his eyes. "The less you know the better. I'm sorry Peter, but it's best you don't know." she softly caressed his cheek and left.
"I should have helped her! I could have helped her!" Peter cried. "She was crying out for help then and I was too stupid to figure it out! I'm such an idiot! I totally let her down!"