Submerged

You can't escape.

The thought lingered as Marin opened his eyes. He was in the tank again. A throaty tickle to inhale came and he took a slow drawn breath. You take it in now so it's there when you need it. So that you're ready even when you feel like you can't breathe. Because it's going to happen a lot.

6 Minutes.

As if to remind him of his dangerous reality, an uncontrollable shudder arced through his back muscles. The first droplets trickled against his spine. Not my feet, he cursed silently. At least with them he would have felt the solid ground below him, bracing him to face the oncoming torrent. Ha. that would be too easy for his life. Another hose to the back instead. His skin shivered, tensed.

"Sorry Maz, we can't afford to heat it higher than 16. You'll be fine."

You're pathetic.

He hadn't argued over safety. He wasn't in any position to flex star power muscles. He was a last minute addition to an underselling tour. A sideshow. Things had gotten so complicated with Sam recently and he needed to just make things fit. Cram them in a hard box. Fill it to the brim. So it was cold water and it would bite until he numbed. It was the same every show. Every fucking show, he thought.

6 times a week, twice on Sundays!

He felt it then. Rising higher. He steadied his soles, resisting the first tiny pressure against his calves. A creepy, subtle pushing which hinted softly that he could just bend the knee right there and surrender to the water.  Why resist the rising deep at all? Let it squeeze and embrace you as an anaconda to a cow.

Give up.

The first two minutes were agonizing. Nothing to do but wait for the level to rise. A timelapse of a bitter winter Ivy climbing a ruined estate wall. Finding the cracks. Then it was everywhere. His mind started counting the vines, the leaves. Like a waterfall of prickly pointed stars rolling down cheeks.  Arguments like tendrils wrapped around his heart. It was so much all at once. Memories mixed with water as he felt the squeeze on his chest. His breathing was heavier now as he fought back against the tightly gripping cold.

4 Minutes.

Droplets prised gently at the corners of his lips trying to push in. Just a small movement and they could dance on his tongue like bitter words desperate to be spoken. An urge to scream and inhale and rage came then. Hot thoughts battered against liquid cold caresses on his cheek. I could let it out right now, Marin thought. One frenzied angry release. Huge air bubbles of emotion exploding against the glass. A manifest of all the horrors of his life bursting out for everyone to see. Then he could just close his eyes and await rescue or oblivion.

What a show that would be.

Marin had taken too long in that thought. The water gave him a last popping pat on his head as it took away the final remnants of air from his crown. A few seconds later the thunderous crashing of water on water stopped. The tank was full. He was submerged completely. Overwhelmed and surrounded on all sides he thrashed against the inevitable.

Try  just 'breathing through it' now .

Steeling himself, Marin took a solid breath that needed no air. It was the deep sighing breath of someone resigned to fighting despite appealing for their opponents to choose a different path. Necessary. Joyless. Marin had been here so many times before. Pressure on pressure. Pushing, tearing, biting at his muscles, clawing desperately to get inside. Or maybe just wanting to let something out, he thought. 

Let go!

It couldn't be today. Different memories rose within him. Sam's face in the blankets. A giggle in the dark. This life - all mystery and magic. Something to fight for. Something warm and distant that called to better days ahead. Eventually. The memories welled, rose like a wave, and washed everything away in a tsunami of hope. The thrashing stopped. Marin closed his eyes and floated serenely. 

15 seconds.

The last push was hardest. The line between giving everything and giving nothing. Marin kicked his legs and swam upwards toward a light.

0 seconds.

The audience applauded. Jeered. Leered. A curtain dropped.

"Same time tomorrow!" bellowed the announcer.

Marin smiled.

Ok what? Where'd this come from? Well, honestly it's from watching an unhealthy number of YouTube videos about Dopamine crashes and being a little inspired by my good friend Megan's recent flash fiction series based on Tarot (Check it out!). I wanted to try something creative. Some rules

• Write from a random image.
• Draft it before doomscrolling. (Drafts before Dopamine!)
• Put it here wherever it got to. Finished or not. Happy or not.

It was maybe darker than I thought. Some bits make me wince! (Moo). I would be happier if I fleshed it out in parts. Rushed the end. Shut up inner Jono.

I'm gone.