I don’t want to die yet. Please, God. Not until I’ve had the chance to see if my happiness can be real.
“Shannon!”
The second time I hear my name, the first dismissed as delusion, it’s too distinct to be anything else. I would recognize that voice anywhere, I think as I peel my forehead from the tree and turn to peer into the darkness, my heart thumping with hope. It’s him.
“Kyle,” I try to call, too weak at first to get his name beyond my lips. “Kyle…”
“Shannon! Shannon!”
His voice is receding into the storm.
“Shannon! Shannon!”
“Kyle…” I try again, my mouth surprisingly dry. “Kyle!”
Was I dead? Had I died and not realized it?
“Kyle!” I call again, like an engine my voice finally catching. “Kyle! Help…”
“Shannon! Shannon!” His voice is so far away it’s like hearing the reflection of an echo of a memory of a whisper. “Shannon!”
“Kyle…No…”
Why is he going further away? Doesn’t he hear me calling his name? Can’t he feel me here, waiting for him?
“Kyle!” I try again. Hot tears are being swept right out of my eyes by the wind. “Kyle…”
“Shannon! Shannon!”
“Kyle!”
Using every last ounce of strength I have, I draw in a deep breath and shout his name one last time as loudly as I can. Please, I beg him silently. Please hear me. I need you, Kyle…
“Shannon?” His response echoes back a moment after mine has faded.
“Kyle! I'm here! I’m here!”
“Shannon! Shannon!” His voice is growing louder.
“Kyle!”
“Shannon! Where are you? I’m here, I’m coming!”
“Kyle! Kyle!”
Over and over Kyle calls my name, and over and over again I answer him as steadily he draws closer. I’m half-turned in my seat, facing the storm now, and am straining with all my might to make out anything in the black world that surrounds me.
“Kyle! Kyle!”
“Keep calling my name, baby! I’m almost there! Don’t stop! Shannon! Shannon!”
And then, just like that, like a star winking into existence, there it is: the glow of a flashlight. It’s a pinprick in the distance, a hole in the black blanket of the night through which the world on the other side shines through. Upon seeing it, my energy is renewed, the first smile in what feels like years lighting up my bruised and battered face.
He’s here! He’s really here!
“Kyle! Kyle! I’m here! I’m up here!”
The light swells, the beam careening wildly as Kyle frantically searches the inundated forest. Once or twice it very nearly hits me only to veer away at the very last second.
“I'm up here!”
At the sound of my voice, the light swings back and pauses at the base of the magnolia where its trunk disappears into the water. Slowly, the beam begins to rise.
“Baby!” yells Kyle, his voice a mixture of relief, pity and surprise as the light settles upon me. I don’t doubt I look as pitiful as I feel – bedraggled and dripping, cold and hungry and more miserably exhausted than I ever even thought possible. “Baby, I’m here! Hold on just a little longer!”
He’s close enough that I can make out his silhouette behind the glow of the flashlight. He’s in a small boat, its silver nose glimmering in the corona of the flashlight’s beam.
“Kyle…”
If hearing him before had given me a fresh measure of strength, seeing him now sucks it out of me. It’s like my body knows that it’s reached the end of its ordeal, that the finish line is waiting just ahead. As the outlines of Kyle and his boat sharpen, the last of my energy leaves, dripping off of me like the raindrops running down my back. Suddenly, it’s all I can do to hold myself to the tree, my body and soul on the verge of total collapse.
“Kyle…”
Twenty yards, ten. Less than a minute and I’d be in his arms. I can already feel them wrapped around me, so strong and reassuring. How warm I’d be, how happy!
“Kyle…”
He’s close enough that I can make out his features. They’re features whose every curve and line I’ve long since memorized. It’s him. It’s really him. My Kyle.
“Ky—"
A deafening crack behind me cuts me off. The report is so loud it makes my ears ring. My head snaps around, my eyes widening in fear as out of the darkness I see the massive trunk of a much taller tree come lurching towards me.
“Oh shit!” I exclaim as instinct takes over I fling myself away from the tree before I can think about what I’m doing. Suddenly, I’m tumbling.
The water, I manage to think just before I slice into it, the roiling current closing over my head and pushing the air from my lungs in an instant. As I sink down into it, weighed down by my clothes and the bag on my back, I thrash wildly, my every thought now of one thing and one thing only.
The surface. I need to get to the surface.
But no matter how I struggle, I can’t find the way. I'm totally disoriented. The water is rushing every which direction around me; like a ragdoll in a washing machine I’m tumbling violently through its current.
I have my eyes wide open, not that I can see a thing, though I can feel all sorts of debris down here with me in the depths. As I spin, a thick branch smacks my hip. It’s so painful I gasp, which in turn makes me cough as water fills my lungs.
Air. I need air!
Ten seconds and already I’ve been down here too long. If I didn’t get to the surface soon, I was going to drown in these muddy waters. What a shame, I think as I hiccup and swallow another mouthful of water. To have lasted so long only to die right here at the end. God, you sure do have a sick sense of humor…
As the last of the oxygen is sucked from my blood, lethargy begins to replace the urgency with which I’d first struggled to find the surface. I’m still thrashing, my arms and legs are still kicking and clawing wildly, but the vigor is gone, my exhaustion finally having become too much to withstand.
Kyle, I cry out wordlessly. Kyle, I’m sorry…
The darkness of the world is quickly overtaking my mind. Even as I tell myself I shouldn’t, I try to draw in a fresh breath, my already half-filled lungs receiving a swallow of water instead. What little consciousness of mine that remains flickers; even the pain is starting to dim.
My sweet, sweet Kyle. I’m so sorry I failed you. I’m so sorry you came all this way for nothing. I'm so sorry I never took the chance I should have on you, or on us…
I don't even have the strength to kick anymore. Both hands are stretched out in front of me, my fingers weakly grasping at nothing.
I’m going to die.
The thought, anathema before, is not so terrifying now. In a way, it’s almost comforting. How easy, the darkness whispers. How easy to just give up and sink into my warm embrace. Just one more breath, Shannon. One more breath and it will all be over…
Uh-huh, my mind lazily replies. My thoughts are anchors buried in ten feet of mud. How simple to just give in…
The burning in my lungs has ceased, the fire in my head extinguished too. All that’s left is a weird sort of blissful, floating sensation, a feeling that gives me an impression of being enveloped by a cloud.