Down the Rabbit Hole

Work in Progress

"Blogging Circle of Friends "
DAY 2171: October 29, 2018
Prompt: Work in Progress

This is an excerpt from my favorite work in progress, the working title is "Voices in the Water":

The man in front of me looked to be sinking a pool of anguish. His body was so weighed down by grief that he seemed to be melting in the soft rain. He clutched a teddy bear made of faded blue gingham with brown button eyes. I tossed aside my fedora and removed my jacket. The rain was light, the drops barely discernible as they fell over my bare shoulders and back. I reached for the bear and pulled in it against my chest, hoping there was enough water. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the voices.


I don’t remember the first time I drowned. My mother refused to speak of it. The trauma from my near demise was so deeply rooted that even the mere mention of the incident would drive her into a fury after which she would retreat into a migraine-fueled gloom for days.

Over the years I have managed to gather the details through family members and a handful of reluctant witness who were at that lake on that fateful day. From all accounts, I was raven-haired toddler full of frantic energy playing with my gaggle of older cousins at the water’s edge. Suddenly my mother stood up from her deck chair, perched higher up on the beach, the tall Tom Collins glass slipping from her hand, her pretty features evolving into a mask of sheer terror. She was already running and weeping, already screaming my name before anyone else even realized something was wrong.

“Rina!” she screamed, plunging into the cold lake water, her eyes frantically searching the surface for some sign of her baby girl.

It was my older cousin Ryan who found me, underwater, about eight yards off shore. My mother dropped to her knees wailing as he laid my limp body on the beach. He gave me mouth to mouth until my breath returned and I vomited ribbons of dark lake water into the sand. I was saved. It wasn’t until much later that I would realize something else had come back with me from the depths.

My name is Nerina, named for my great grandmother. It means “water” in Greek. I find it ironic since that summer was the last time we went to the lake. It was the last time my mother ever let me near the water.