Atlantis (21 page)

Atlantis: Water is the key.

Chapter 10. The Key

Water is the key
, I thought the words that were hidden in the ink splatter. Does it really say that? How can it possibly say that? And what does it mean? I lay there in the dimming light of my room, thinking.

Sooner than I would have thought possible, it was night. Light was no longer fighting to get through the cracks in the closed blinds of my window, a light grey glow filled the room. Glancing quickly at my clock I realized it was 9:17. My mom and Sophie would be coming home tomorrow. I vaguely hoped that Nicholas was able to calm Charlotte down to a reasonable level. I didn’t want her ratting me out to my mother about Elliott. Real or imaginary, I could feel it in the core of my being that we were meant to be together. Reality was just going to have to mould around that fact.

I looked at the camera screen again. Yep, there was no doubt in my mind that there, hidden in the black ink it said, water is the key. The more I looked at it the clearer it became. I lay there staring at my ceiling, trying to make some sense out of it.

The worry I felt for Elliott crept into my mind like a sneaky little spider assessing the best places to weave its web of doubt. What could have happened, wherever he was, that made him have to end our conversation so abruptly? It wasn’t like him. Actually, it kind of was.

Elliott seemed to constantly be disappearing on me. Why was this any different? The spider kept spinning its web. I couldn’t tell why, but it
was
different. Something was wrong and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I realized my teeth were chewing on my bottom lip. I was going to have to calm down, but how?

“
Water is the key,” I whispered into the shadowy room. “The key to what?”

I got up off my bed and went down to the kitchen to find something to snack on. I wasn’t necessarily hungry, I just needed something to do. Maybe if I ate something I would quit using my lip as bubblegum. With each step I took down the stairs, I repeated “water-is-the-key, water-is-the-key.” I kept coming up blank.
What could it mean?
I bit my lip in frustration, again. The damn spider kept spinning. I needed to get control of my thoughts. The race they were running was wearing me out, quickly.

I absentmindedly opened the fridge, then cabinets, then pantry, looking for nothing in-particular; solitude wasn’t helping. The marathon that was taking place in my head was taking its toll on my energy level. Not that that was a difficult thing to do.

I still wasn’t sleeping like a normal person. Not that I could fool myself into thinking I was normal. Not with Charlotte constantly advertising my oddities, and Nicholas praising them. But sleep would be nice.

Even when I thought I was sleeping these days, I wasn’t so sure. Whenever I woke up, most of my dreams had seemed so real that I don’t think I was getting any quality amount of rest. At least my nightmares had been replaced with fantasies. A step in the right direction. I think. Though my fantasies seemed to be coming to life.

Elliott was too perfect to be anything but an illusion. His chiseled features, chocolate hair, and hazel green eyes were a sight I could stare at for hours. The honey texture of his voice, and the addicting scent of his skin, pushed the boundaries of any reality I knew. Especially the part of him liking me back.

I shut the last cupboard in the kitchen and tried to quit thinking. My mind wouldn’t shut up. I wished I could shut it closed as easy as I did the cabinet.

It would be nice when my mom got home. I wasn’t much good at foraging for myself. If the fridge hadn’t been stocked with leftovers and the pantry stocked with Pop-Tarts, I probably would have starved. As it was, nothing caught my attention. I didn’t really feel like eating anyway. Instead I decided to go back upstairs and try to relax. Really clear my head.

Perhaps a bath would help
, I thought as my feet hit the landing. I changed course from my room and headed towards the bathroom. The vanilla scented air freshener my mom had plugged in the bathroom outlet smelled comforting, calming even. I turned the water on and let it run warm before I plugged up the drain and poured in some vanilla scented bubble bath. My mom really likes the smell of vanilla.

I left the water running, filling up the tub, and went to my room to get some candles and my inflatable pillow. I was determined to relax if it was the last thing I did. Robed and slippered, I walked back into the steam filled bathroom with my relaxation equipment. But as the steam hit my face, my heart raced as I remembered yesterday’s shower and the strange, yet familiar, face in the foggy mirror.

Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart nearly bounded out of my chest.
Deep breaths Lil. Calm down.
It was nothing. It
is
nothing. I couldn’t help but notice that if I turned my head a little to the right I would be looking into that same fogged up mirror.
Don’t do it. You’ll just freak yourself out
, I told myself. I realized my breathing was quick and shallow.
There’s nothing there anyway.
Don’t let the eerie silence of the house get to you.

My feet felt like they were weighted down with lead rather than the fuzzy grey slippers that were usually light as a feather. The water continued to run in the background of my thoughts. I looked down towards the tub and realized it was nearly overflowing with bubbles. I may have accidently poured in a bit too much. Whoops.

I lurched my body forward, now with a more convincing motive to move, and quickly turned off the faucet. I lit the three cream colored mason jar candles, hit the lights, and slipped into the warm waiting water; I was sure to stay out of view of the mirror, just in case.

Sinking my body deep into the bubbles, the water had an immediate effect on my thoughts. The race was called off. The spider had gone. I laid back on my pillow and watched the dance of the flames. Thinking of nothing. Maybe water really was the key, the key to calming down.

The heat of the water radiated deep, penetrating my muscles, forcing them to relax. To let go. All of the stresses, and worries, of the last three days melted away. My eyes closed without my permission, I was so comfortable.

I fought to keep them open. I knew it wasn’t safe to sleep in a bathtub, but my body won that fight. I must be getting less sleep than I thought. My eyelids fluttered open a few more times before I lost the battle.

When I opened my eyes, I was walking barefoot down a damp cobblestone road. It was dark. A torch I held in my hand lit the way. I could see my opal on my hand glitter in the flame light. I brushed my long black hair from my face. Although in my head the surroundings were strange and foreign, my instincts knew this place from long ago. I was fairly certain
it was long ago
. I walked as though I knew where I was going. Under stone archways, through hidden passageways; right, right, then left, I walked through the tunnels.

There was a swishing sound in the background. My head couldn’t make out what it was, but for some reason it didn’t concern me. Somehow I knew it was normal. The rhythmic swishing sound was a part of this place. My feet automatically kept time with the swishing as I continued on through the darkness.

Up ahead I started to see a faint glow. It glistened, reflecting on the wet cobblestones. There was a light ahead. My head was excited to see what it was, although I thought I already knew.

It was as if I had somehow gone back in time to one of Elliott’s stories. I knew this place. Weirder yet, I
remembered
it. But my head still questioned things. My thoughts seemed to be my thoughts now, mixed in the mind of my 1700s self. I walked towards the swishing and the light.

As I drew nearer the end of the tunnel, I realized that whatever was producing the light wasn’t a torch flame as I had originally thought. There was no flicker to this light. Just a soft, steady glow. I closed the distance to the opening up ahead, with barely an audible patter. It was as if I was moving in shadow, part of the shadows perhaps. If I wanted, I could have easily snuck up on the light. But again, instinctively I knew I didn’t need too. I took a deep breath of the salty air as I moved through the last archway.

At first glance, the beauty of my surroundings took my breath away. What lay before me was in strong contrast to where I just was. Like black to white. Night and day. The dreary, damp, somber stones had somehow led me to a hidden cliff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. The thrashing waves below were the source of the swishing.

The steady glow I noticed from within the tunnel had come from the light of the full moon. It reminded me of my art history book. The moon lit the rocky shore line like Rembrandt highlighting the figures he painted. Although I noticed all the little imperfections, such as the rough rocky surfaces and the bleak colors of night, they were lit in such a way that no one would dare characterize them as flaws. It was magnificent.

The swishing of the ocean thrashing against the rocks, over and over, was natural background music of this place. The mysterious perfecting light of the moon, and the smell of the salt water, was intoxicating. I sat down on the rocky cliff and watched the waves try and tear the stones apart far below me. A light salty mist was all that could reach me from the battle that raged below.

My head told me I had been here before. That this place really existed. Somewhere in my subconscious, I think, I realized I was dreaming. But it was a dream of something real. I was certain this had happened before. The deja vu sensation was overwhelming. I knew I was waiting for someone.

Even in my dream I caught myself thinking too much. I tried to let my instincts take over, and enjoy the moment. To quit analyzing life for a mere fraction of a second and simply enjoy the beauty it provided. I shut my eyes and let my senses take over. The spray of the ocean on my face. The smell of the sea salt in my nose. The electricity that pulsed from my hand?

I opened my eyes to Elliott. He had come and sat beside me on the rocky cliff. He was who I was waiting for, who I’d always wait for. His hand held mine. Our eyes met and he cupped my face in his hand and kissed me.

Pulling his lips from mine he whispered in my ear, “Are you ready?” His lips brushed my ear and his hot breath sent a shiver down my spine.

“
Yes,” I replied.

We both stood up on the rocky ledge and inched ourselves closer to the precipice. My head tried to pull me away from the ledge, but my dream had taken over. I was merely a viewer now, like watching a rerun on television.

“
I love you Miele,” Elliott said to me, taking my right hand in his left.

“
Forever,” I whispered back, clutching his hand tightly.

Abruptly my strange, beautiful dream turned into a nightmare, and I couldn’t do anything about it. The next thing I knew, Elliott and I, hand in hand, jumped from the cliff. I could feel the wind fly past me as we fell towards the waves and rocks below. As we broke the surface of the water, our hands got wrenched apart by the powerful current. I searched frantically in the black water for Elliott. The salt water penetrated my eyes and burned. I was out of breath and unable to find the surface. All I wanted was to see Elliott’s face before I died. There was no question what was happening. I was dying. From my underwater prison I heard a light banging in the background.