Slowtown

32

I must be underwater. Waves of ice cold wash over me, drenching me. Not nice. I can hardly breathe. Maybe because I'm breathing in the water, dummy.

I drag my hand over my face, cold and clammy with sweat. My eyes are already shut, but I squeeze them tightly.

I wait for the waves to pass. It takes a while, but the tide recedes, and I crack my eyes open.

I see nothing. It's dark.

I hear nothing. It's silent.

But I've felt this before.

Cautiously, I put a hand down onto what I imagine is grainy sand. But it doesn't feel right. Too solid, too coarse.

The waves are nowhere near me now. I can't even hear them.

I've been here before, I can sense it. I futilely scan the darkness. I can't see it this time, but I feel it creeping towards me.

I know I've been here before, if I could just remember where exactly this is then I could get out. If there is a way out. I didn't make it out last time.

Trying to suppress my nerves, I feel around me. It's certainly not sand under me, glad I've come out of my delusion enough to realize that. There were never real waves either, were there? Don't think so. I am sweaty though, and my head's still feeling a little seasick.

The not-quite-sand is becoming less sand-like by the second, now feeling fuzzy and firm.

My bodily awareness has returned enough for me to feel that I'm wedged up in a corner.

I'm trying my hardest to put my mind together so I can put these pieces together.

Okay. Corner, walls, room. I'm in a room. A dark room. The lights are off. If there's a door in this room, it's probably closed. Fuzzy ground. Carpet, right? Has to be.

I search around the darkness again. I can barely detect a lump of shadow across from me. Close.

Oh God. I remember. Fear floods me, just like last time, freezing up my veins.

But this time, I spot the faintest glint to my right. Doorknob.

I jump for it, hands slipping on the knob, yanking on it until the door gives and swings open. My weight falls into the carpeted floor with a heavy thud. Not another second passes before I scramble up to my feet and throw the closet door shut. I stare at it for a minute, fearfully wondering if my enemy inside will bang its fists on the walls.

It doesn't. It can't.

I observe my room. My bed is unmade. The clock reads 4 am. I step towards my window, drawing back the curtains. Empty streets, dark houses, the world is asleep. I tilt my head and look further down the street, my gaze snagging on a particular house. Whose house is that? I know my neighbors, but I don't remember who lives right there. I reach for a name. What did it start with? J? J sounds right... maybe. J, J, J...

Josh! That's his name. ...Who is he, though? Probably a friend.

I look back down to the street, trying to remember what I was doing before I woke up. I think I was walking down the street. With Josh. Talking about...

I dig deep for that memory. I have to push past all the cloudiness in the way, but–

I need to go. I spot a pair of ratty sneakers strewn in a corner of my room and hastily pull them on. I need to go right now. Just as I turn the handle to the door of my room, I freeze.

I can't just storm out of the house, I'll wake up my family from their sleep. I think of them. It feels like ages since I've seen them, I think it's been ages. Suddenly I want to wake them all up, meet them again, tell them I missed them and watch them not know what I mean. I'm here. I'm home. Not Slowtown, home.

I'll soak it in later, now I need to go. So I turn the handle slowly, beg the hinges not to squeak, and creep down the hall. It's so quiet, but this house feels so lived in, so breathed in. I slip out the front door and begin walking down the street. I marvel at the shiny and dirty cars in everyone's driveways. I tentatively step into the beam of the streetlamp, delighted to see it not even flicker, its light remaining steady as I pass through. Oh man, I'm really here, aren't I? I'm back. Don't dawdle Tyler, you have a deal to keep, I remind myself. Still, I take a look back to Josh's house, wondering when he'll show up.

Is this really real? Or have I been delusional this whole time? No way was all of that a dream. But maybe it is. It seems too convoluted to be real. This is a fever dream, it has to be. There's no Josh or Jenna. Yet I keep walking, even brisker now.

Huh, Jenna. She just popped into my mind right then.

But I'm distracted from the thought of her by the feeling of coldness that sweeps over me. Really does feel like a wave. I've continued sweating this whole time too, too occupied with other thoughts to notice, though.

The coldness floods into my ears, and I feel pressing against my skull. My legs tremble with every step. I breathe deeply through my mouth. Still doesn't stop my stomach from turning. Just a couple more blocks.

I'm freezing by the time I see the graveyard with the little bench in front of it, and I'm gulping for air by the time I get to it. I collapse on that wooden bench, laying down on it and squeezing my eyes shut, wondering which will happen first: throwing up or passing out. I regret opening my eyes. Staring at the deep navy blue sky with swimming vision makes me feel like I'm underwater. Closing my eyes again doesn't prove to be any better, though. My brain feels like it's been stretched and flattened out. God, every second feels like a decade. I heave, trying to keep myself conscious. I have to wait here for Josh and Jenna. They'll be here soon.

—

"Tyler!"

I jolt awake, disoriented. I look around me quickly. Oh shit, I'm still on the bench, I think I fell asleep.

"Tyler?" a girl leans into my view.

"Huh?" I blurt, not knowing who I'm talking to.

She stares at me, and I stare back, processing.

"Do you remember me?" she asks, afraid of the answer, I can tell.

"Jenna," I sit up from the rigid bench, pulling her into my arms. "You're back. I'm back. We're back, right?" I say breathlessly.

"Yes," she wraps her arms around my shoulders, "I left through my front door, it wasn't stuck. We're back."

Despite the tinge of old queasiness that remains in my gut, I am relieved. I hug her tighter, so glad that she's real.

I finally pull away and take another look around. Dawn is about to break, but it hasn't yet. I must not have been out that long.

Jenna sits right up next to me, shoulder to shoulder. "I'm exhausted," she croaks.

"Me, too," I put my arm around her. "Do you think Josh will be here soon?" I ask softly.

She nods certainly.

A few moments of huddling later, we see a figure stumbling towards us. He looks pretty messed up, but by the smile that crosses his face, we know it's Josh.

"Hey man, we're back," I help him sit down.

He doesn't even say anything back, just nods slightly and grins.

The sun begins to rise over a city full of people.