I watch her, fragile, small, young, pale, paler still in the icy reflection of the pond. I do not know her. I do not know where I am. All I know is an overwhelming sense of responsibility for this girl, that I'm supposed to protect her. But from what? She has skates, I realize. She is skating. It's a wonder to me she does not fall, her bony ankles wobble threateningly under her. The sky is cold and ashy, everything seems faded in the surrounding grey. I can hear something, just barely. A cracking. The ice is cracking. But by the time I step onto the ice, it's already too late.
Suddenly, I am the little girl. Flooded with panic and realization, I try to step back, falling over myself, flailing skinny limbs. The ice is cracking beneath me, and in the next instant, I'm falling backwards. The water pulls me under, icy and thick, pouring in my lungs. Looking upwards, I realize the shattered hole at the surface is an eerie blue, silhouetting my outstretched hand.
Yet, I'm not all her. I'm still the guardian, watching her. I can feel myself drowning and watch myself being pulled under at the same time. I watch her sinking, her face frozen in the mask of hollowed fear I put on. The cold sinks in for the first time, along with an empty sense of failure. Her fingertips stick out of the water, just barely. I vaguely realize I could pull her out, but I remain staring. Another though drifts over, that the ice will freeze like that, just her fingers stuck above the ice.
I sit up quickly, heart pounding. A dream. I exhale, and realize I'm freezing. I pull the blanket up from the foot of the bed, and I'm shivering, even in the humid summer night. I press my hand to my face, it comes away wet. I'm crying.
"To see someone drowning in your dream suggests that you are becoming too deeply involved in something that is beyond your control. Alternatively, it represents a sense of loss in your own identity. You are unable to differentiate who you are anymore."
Who am I? Am I the girl I watched drown, overwhelmed? Am I the failed guardian? What's out of my control? I settle myself, trying to lose myself again in sleep, when I suddenly realize something. I didn't struggle. As the girl, I let myself fall, more entranced by my fingers than panic at drowning. As the guardian, I didn't pull her out, instead staring at her hands. I didn't fight death.
I lay awake. Sleep does not come.
