Twisted Dreams

Walk Through Water

It's like walking through water. Deep, thick water. Your limbs move slowly, struggling to push yourself forward. Your eyes sting when they blink. You watch schools of fish dart by faster than you could imagine. Your mind races alongside them, but your body could only dream.

Everything goes by so fast. Or maybe you're just slow. There's nothing you can do to go any faster, no matter how much you want to. The feeling of helplessness crashes over you. Your throat constricts. Your ribcage hurts, strains to get air. Tears make everything blurry. You can't see.

Then a hand brushes your shoulder, gentle, soft, and, most importantly, slow. You turn, and see a new face. Not just another fish or sea creature, but a human being. More emerge from behind them. They smile kindly.

They tell you stories, bubbles forming rising from their mouths to the surface. They teach you games to play, and what to do with trash on the ocean floor. They guide your limbs, pulling them ever so slightly faster.

Over time, these kind people teach you to move at least nearly as fast as them. They're more than happy to slow their pace on days you feel tired. After all, some of them do the same every now and then.

You discover they all needed help, too. They all needed to be taught. You sigh, smiling and letting out a large bubble. You watch it shift and wobble, rising higher and higher. You're relieved. You're not alone.