The Ink In-Between: An Anthology

A Swim in the Rain

PROMPT: Write a story that lies somewhere between reality and dream.

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I'm hiding in the hammock.

It's raining. The fabric weighs wet and heavy on my skin, but I don't care. I want to wrap all of it around my body and hide from the world.

I just want to get away from it all, even if for a moment.

Well ... maybe not all of it.

I leave a small gap, just wide enough for me to breathe and look through.

The skies have turned a dull grey, but there is no wind, not even a breeze. I've never seen the sea so calm before. It's like looking at an enormous lake, seeing the ripples every time a raindrop hits the surface.

Even laying there in the rising heat of my makeshift cocoon, staring off into the sea as sweat drips down my back, it never occurs to me to go out for a swim.

What kind of person would swim in the rain anyway?

But then I hear a splash.

The opening is too small, so I lift the fabric just a little bit more to widen my field of vision.

It's another girl. No. A young woman, older than me, standing knee deep in the water.

She has on a white top and a long flowing white skirt, which she's pulled up so it won't get drenched. The white contrasts with her deep, black skin and her long black hair, already dripping wet from the rain, locks sticking close to her head and back.

I can't see her face since she's facing away from me. But I can tell just from her silhouette that this isn't somebody I know or should know.

There isn't supposed to be anyone on this side of the island except for my parents and their rich friends. And me.

I freak out. My first instinct is to sit up and get off the hammock, but I end up leaning too far back and immediately fall off the stupid thing. The sand somewhat softens the blow, but I end up covered in it when I get off my back and sit up.

There's laughter. When I look up, the young woman is there, water up to her thighs, arms around her bare stomach as she laughs a good hearty laugh at my stumble.

I should feel embarrassed, or scared, or angry or confused ... but I don't. I just stare at the woman, skin burning, sand in my mouth, and heart beating like a drum in my chest.

The woman's laughter quiets down but doesn't fully stop. She's still looking at me as she starts to sway, letting the rim of her skirt skim the water as she does so.

It's high tide. The hammock and the palm trees it was hanging from aren't that far from the edge of the water. The sand I'm sitting on is already wet. I can see everything so clearly, like I'm right there beside her.

It looks so clear. So vivid. So real.

She starts to dance, giggling under her breath as she twirls and moves her arms. She tilts her head back and parts her mouth as if to drink the raindrops. Her hands come down to slap the surface and she lifts a handful of water to the sky, letting it rain down on her.

She looks so happy. I've never seen any grown up look that happy before.

Once in a while she'll look at me and smile, soft, easy and sweet on her lips. Like she knows me. Like I'm the reason she's smiling. Why she's happy.

And my heart aches. Really aches, just like they say in the books. I thought it was just a figure of speech, but it isn't. It really isn't.

It hurts. Clenched up tight, burning, right there in my chest. I feel like crying. It's there, stuck in my throat, like a dam ready to burst.

But I also feel ... happy. I feel like laughing. I feel like there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, in this moment, watching this woman dance in the sea on a rainy day. A woman that smiles at me like there's nowhere else she'd rather be either.

Am I ... am I dreaming?

Did I fall asleep on the hammock? Did I catch a fever in the rain? Am I hallucinating? Have I finally gone insane?

Cause if I have ... then I don't think I really care.

I smile back at the woman. Or at least try to. It feels awkward, it probably looks ugly. Maybe I should stop. But she smiles back, and my head feels light and fluffy, like a cloud, when she does that.

I don't know her ... but if she knows me, then I have to know her, right?

She's saying something now, waving her hand at me. But I can't make out the words. Everything sounds muffled somehow. It's rude not to say anything back, but I'm almost scared to open my mouth. What if I say something and this ... thing, whatever it is, stops?

It all just feels so fragile, dream or not. Like it'll break at any moment. I don't want this moment to stop.

I'm still trying to figure out what she's saying to me when, suddenly, I see a light flashing out of the corner of my eye. Thunder claps behind me and my heart skips a beat. I turn around, searching for those flashes of light through the palm trees.

A voice calls out for me. It's my dad. He sounds worried. They probably just realised that I'm not inside the house.

I start panicking a little. I don't want to go back inside. I'll wait till they come get me. Maybe I can even go for a swim first. Maybe muster up some courage to say something to the young woman.

But when I turn back around and get up to head towards the water, she's no longer there.

I'm all alone again. Standing in the rain and staring out into the sea as a thunderstorm forms above me.

When my parents run out of the house, screaming my name, I'm waist deep in the water and sobbing uncontrollably.

And when they drag me back inside and ask me why, I don't have the right words, because I myself have no idea why I'm crying.

I just tell them I had a bad dream.

It's just easier that way. They wouldn't understand.

After all, what kind of person goes for a swim in the rain?