After they left and I was alone in Raif’s room, it finally hit me that I was trapped here. Dropping the dress, I ran to the only other door to find it was a bathroom with a window that didn’t open. Entering back into the bedroom, I discovered that the windows here were unlocked, but I as much as I wanted to get back home to see my family, I was hesitant to leave Raif. One thing I knew I needed was to get dressed. I couldn’t very well escape in nothing but a long shirt. Picking up the dress, I was once again distracted by the texture of the fabric here. It was a softer than silk dress of deep teal, it shimmered ever so slightly in the sun coming in through the windows and was a perfect fit.
After I was clothed, I looked through my belongings for the pouch in my swimsuit that I’d put my necklace in, and put it on. I felt profoundly relieved with it nestled between my breasts again. It was gently tucked under the dress so that no one could see it, but I could feel its comforting weight against my skin. It’s strange, the things you find comforting when your world is crashing down around you. The mundane little things seemed to ground me, make me able to process more than the nagging, physical ache I had with wanting to throw the door open and see Raif again.
I wasn’t sure how—or even if—I was processing anything, but I went about my methodical way of cleaning, organizing, and identifying everything I had left. Once I located my camera, I quickly took a picture of the room. Suddenly I was struck by the thought that I was still acting as though I’d be able to show Ash all my photos when I got home. But I wouldn’t be going home. I was trapped, on an island that shouldn’t exist. I’d essentially died to all of my family. I leaned against the wall, my legs suddenly unable to support me.
I started shaking. I’d died. Was I still dead? Was this all some bizarre hallucination? Atlantis isn’t real—everyone knows that. It’s a myth told by Plato to convince people that a democratic society was perfect—until it wasn’t. If this was a dream, or death, it was certainly very real. I slid down the wall and brought my knees to my chest to control the shaking in my body. My heart beat to a steady crescendo behind my breasts that were cleverly contained in this ridiculous dress made for a princess. A scream started deep in my throat. Not one borne of fear, but deeper; the scream of rage. If I gave into it, I knew tears would certainly follow, and I hated showing that much vulnerability to people I liked, let alone to complete strangers.
I could feel him coming before the door slammed opened and Raif barreled in. I didn’t think I’d ever understand or be able to explain what it felt like to have someone else inside you. Not in a sexual way, or a maternal way, but as if there was a faint echo of another being inside my very soul. It unnerved me more than the thought of dying or being in a mythical continent ever could.
“What is wrong?” Raif bellowed as he quickly searched the room, a wickedly curved knife in one hand. I realized that the scream I was holding back had morphed into some pathetic keening noise. It was unacceptable. Bolting to my feet, I ran up to him.
“I died!” I screamed back at him. “I fucking died and can’t ever see my family again! What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” He stopped his search as if he’d been punched. His knife dropped to the floor and his hands revealed his helplessness, held open by his sides. “How am I supposed to live down here? What about Ash?” I dropped back to the floor, my heart breaking at the thought of my little niece never knowing what happened to her aunt. To never see her face again, never hear her hyena laugh. Visions of things I’d miss with her ran through my head. A weight like none I’d ever felt landed on my heart. Tears poured down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body in great waves of hopeless despair. I was helpless to contain them.
“How can you keep me prisoner here, when we both know I don’t belong?” I looked up at Raif, not caring about my heartbreak. “Why can’t you just send me back?” He knelt in front of me; anguish contorting his face to mirror the pain of my own.
“I do not know how to fix this. We have had few Surface Dwellers enter our domain, but all seemed more relieved at being here than anything else. You are the first to come to me, and I am not adept at the gentler parts of life. You should have gone to someone else. You deserve better than me.” Wrapping me in his arms, he gently caressed my hair.
I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch. As frustrated, scared, and upset as I was, just being with him helped. My tears slowed, the anguish wasn’t so much to bear.
“You have
