Butterscotch Sundae
                                                         part 2

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I used to have this dream where I was sinking and sinking without anything to reach for except the still top of the ocean water. Ive always loved to swim, even as a kid. We used to have a pond by one of the foster homes I stayed in, and I would swim in the mucky water until my fingers and toes turned to wrinkles and my jaw numbed from my teeth chattering so fiercely.

 

My dream still haunts me to this day, though has changed each and every year that Ive gained a year. Frequently, I head to this rickety peer, where I shed my clothes and examine the bluest water I have ever seen. Its so dark blue its almost black, but when I cup it in my hand its crystal clear. Its crystal clear and I drink it. Its salty and it stings my lips, apparently chapped and raw, but its refreshing and before I know it Im nose-diving into this glass top sea, sifting through it like I have sprouted gills and a dorsal fin, flopping around with such determination I forget to breathe.

 

A little voice ticks inside my head: Breathe, breathe, breathe.

 

But Im too headstrong to listen and before I know it, before Im through being a fish or a mermaid, or a dolphin I sink like somethings pulling on my ankle. I can see myself drowning and can feel the water filling my lungs. I panic and thrash around, but Im frozen. My muscles ache and twitch from use and Im done, Im sinking. Its a shit feeling and my last look is the light filtering through the water and the way the bubbles from my nose explode in front of my face. Then it all goes black.

 

I am just about to drown, to die like I do most nights of the week when a hand grasps me to me up to pull me from the deserted ocean. Its not a hand.  Im in a fishing net, strung up and gasping for breath. My eyes sting with salt and my mouth is coated in the same saline. A woman looks at me from her boat. I havent seen her in my dreams before, usually its just me. This woman is golden like shes made from the sun, like Isis herself, or the way I imagine her. She has long, inky black hair and sharp features that look as though they were sliced with a pear knife. She takes my already shallow breath away. She smiles at me.