Bound by a Shared Fate

Bound by a Shared Fate(louis dalton) Bound by a Shared Fate

By Louis Dalton


The waves sang an old tune; the smell of rotten seaweed polluted the air. The black sea beckoned Isadora forward. A thin fog covered the horizon and betrayed her eyes. She played with the waves, their seductive call drawing her in. Wind scattered the sand and threw it up into Isadora’s sight. Her red eye squinted for life. Her father tried to clean her with warm water at home, but was sent away and locked out of the bathroom. Frozen in the mirror, Isadora studied her reflection. How many times had she stared into this mirror seeking a friend and departed empty handed? Falling asleep once again in her bedroom, she could hear faint whisperings pleading with her to wake.

Moonlight shone through the curtain, awakening her slumber. Isadora tried to recall her dream; she could make nothing of it but the same whispers. Abstract thoughts taunted her as she sat up in her king sized bed. She had dreamt she awoke. Once again stuck within a dream within a dream, reality is hard to come by when you’re almost always asleep. Her legs felt like planks of wood as she put them to use after days of sleeping in. The shower scorched her soft skin; she had been hibernating like a lost squirrel under the leaves of her bed sheets. Toothpaste dribbled down her cheek, it felt like burning acid after the days of neglected dental attention. Florescent pink pyjamas remained on the floor around her as she threw on her white frock. Living inside this dress was a lonely thing. Then again, so was dying in her bed sheets. She decided to make something of her life and take a trip to the beach which wasn’t far from her house. Some dreams hug you tight and suffocate you, forcing you to awake panting. Some dreams are stored in the depths of our minds, and forgotten for eternity. Isadora believed that if she tried to escape her dreams by the means of suicide, she would succeed in bringing herself back to reality. Trial and error, she thought.

On her way out of the door, her dad asked her where she was going. He gave her a sideways glance, the one that she found patronizing. She despised that glance. The door slammed, leaving her father puzzled and worried. Cracked and grey, the garden path wasn’t at all interesting. The bushes were a common mixture of green and brown, adding to the dullness of Isadora’s adventure. Like a dungeon door, the waist high garden gate was rusty and old. It was locked so she had to climb over. Avoiding every possible confrontation was trouble in this tiny country town. Everybody knew who everyone was, and any strangers were the talk of the town. Being the bustling badgers they were, they pestered Isadora’s father for gossip on a daily basis.

The sun retreated behind the grey clouds, and the rain began to wet her hair. She had to get to safety; there were houses on the cliff. She started to run towards it, her white dress slapped her drenched legs. Up the side of the huge rock, the birds nest fell. Six baby birds plummeted to their death. As Isadora ran up the grassy slope, the wind twisted her body and violently pushed her off the side.

Like a piece of cloth in the washing machine, the sea played with her tangled figure. She was being tossed around by the deadly power of the water, further and further down the beach towards the cliff crevice. When the sea finally released her, she emerged from the salty water and found herself trapped. She saw before her the opening of a dark cave, which was walled with seaweed. Panic was not the only thing drawing nearer. She stood up and tried to find another way back to the beach, for she could not swim. She dared not enter the cave; her father had told her of the vicious monsters that lingered within. The water which measured up to her knees now withdrew and threatened to enclose her in her watery tomb. The moonlight reached into the cave, but barely illuminated the small space.

Marked on the walls, it seemed others who had been here before her had carved drawings and annotations where the sea weed had not grown. The jagged rocks were used as their pencils; they drew pictures of the sea from this very cave. There was one picture that followed a series of events. Two stickmen carrying a box full of things were drawn, and the tide was out about half a mile. This was very different to the scenario this little girl found herself in. She shook and squeezed out the seawater from her hair, and continued analysing the markings. Another picture featured the sun touching the horizon of the sea, followed by the marking of a coloured-in crow perched on the rock outside the cave. This crow was labelled The Announcer of Death.

The light extinguished in the cave like a bulb, casting her into darkness. The clouds covered the moon and disorganised the fragments of Isadora’s mind. The wind whistled through and curled around her hair. Goose bumps rose on her skinny arms. The tide was coming in. With every new wave, the water level rose. It was time to get out. Strong, black water ripples attacked the cliff entrance and threatened to sweep her away. She started to move quickly, fear wild in her eyes. Jumping down from the safety of the rocks, she plunged herself into a pool of dark water. The salty liquid splashed her in the face. The tide was high, the water up to her chin. Beneath her, she tried to remember the way the floor was shaped but it was so dark that she could only guess where to put her tiny shoes. Step by step she made her way to the entrance of the cave, all the while battling the ever-increasing heights of the water. Suddenly she was sucked towards the entrance as the tide began to conjure its power. The water withdrew to such an extent that the level decreased from her chin to her legs, and then swept her off her feet. She lay on the seabed, the water rising again. A great rumble announced the return of the wave, which broke on her and forced her to somersault with the current. She turned upside down, cracked her head on a blunt rock and floated to the top of the cave wall.

Her head emerged from the water, gushing with blood from the back. The water had reached a critical level. The cave howled with a mocking echo. She found herself clinging onto the ceiling with a fear of drowning. The entrance was blocked with water; the ceiling only gave her air in the other direction, which ventured further inside the cave. Although her father warned her against it, she was in desperate circumstances and decided to take refuge inside. Walking towards the back, only her battered head and skinny arms were visible. The floor seemed to sink down, like a slope would. It also began to grow extremely narrow. The water was moving faster down here, and then she realised there must be somewhere the water is being let out from the other end! The cave behind her was full to the brim with water, and Isadora was pushed faster into the tunnel. The cave seemed to act as a tomb; she was toppled onto her back and shot down further into the cliff. The passage became so narrow that she felt as if she was being forced down a tube. Claustrophobia struck her and panic prickled her spine. She was being packed into the cave, faster and faster towards her death. Her fate was to remain in this little whole, her cheek bones scraped against the ceiling. Destroying her face and arms, the tunnel was unbeatable. It became such an angle that she found she was going underground. It was a direct plunge further away from the surface. The tunnel came to an end. A high drop into a deep plunge pool, this waterfall seemed ancient. When she resurfaced, she was shocked at what she saw.

There were steps out of the plunge pool, and the water escaped the cave through a tiny crack which she observed. She could hear the water hitting a low surface because it was far away. In desperation, she tried to look for a way out. As she looked in the corner of the cave, she saw a girl rocking. The girl stared at her, wide eyed. The rocking stopped. Isadora jogged towards her. When Isadora got close enough to have a good look at her, she was amazed. How was this possible? The girl seemed to be identical to Isadora, but was skinnier and dirty. Both wore the same clothes, although the wide eyed girl’s clothes were slightly dirtier and ripped. Isadora opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the rocking girl opened her mouth and started to cry. All the while staring straight into her eyes, the girl started to mumble some words. “The switch-the switch he flipped it and then I came here and I was y-y-you and someone was m-m-me and then I she saw the moon at the entrance of the tunnel. She told me, just like I’m doing now! This has happened before…“ The two girls eyes were locked together, both paralysed with fear. Isadora looked around the cave briefly for any clues to what the girl was talking about, and found only the markings around the rocking girl, which was a jagged rectangle. Isadora stood in height with the rectangle, and the girl on the floor stood, and they mirrored each other. The two met eye to eye. The rocking girl opened her mouth, just as Isadora did. They both screamed “Please Isadora, Wake up!“ The whispers grew clearer. There was a blinding white light, everything went still. All five of her senses had left her body. There was no sound. No movement. No touch. No taste. No smell. No life.