Salamander

What? Ugh. Why is it wet?

The cold-wet sensation makes my toes curl. My socks get even wetter. I look at my feet. Scanning the floor, I finally catch the reflection of the small puddle. Half the size of a footprint. I frown but the damp sensation is too irritating. Teetering on my heels, I wobble into the kitchen.

I pull the chair, sit down and peel off my socks. Light blue turned dark. From the toe tips to the arch. Halfway hanging them over the backrest of my chair, a whiff of the wet odor rises up my nose. My hands are tightening. Water drips on the floor. The smell gets stronger.

Murky water. I’m pulled down. I can’t breathe.

I throw the clumped socks as far away as possible. While the memory stays with me. The socks land on the floor with a damp thud.

In… 2… 3… 4… out…

It takes a few conscious breaths but then my fingers stop shaking. I eye the wet socks. They’re like dark rocks lying on the bottom of a lake. I blink a few times. Chasing away the image. One last breath.

Ok. Breakfast. Now.

My naked feet touch the floor. It’s damp. I shiver. My feet slide a careful circle, leaving a distinct wet mark on the floor.

Why would Marina mop the floor so early?

My eyes are flickering through the kitchen, hoping to see the mop bucket. I can’t find any trace of my roommate’s cleaning attempts. Instead, my gaze gets stopped by two mugs on the countertop. I lightly shake my head.

“No.”

The whisper escapes while my eyes are still focused on the mugs. There is a distinct red lipstick stain on one. Marina’s shade. On the other I see a brown smear. I close my eyes. Open them again. The stain is still there.

I step back, bumping into the chair. Forgetting that I wanted to eat. Ignoring the uncomfortable wetness under my soles. I flee the kitchen. Entering the corridor, I discover more puddles on the floor. They are almost the same color as the stain on the cup.

No, it’s the lighting.

Avoiding the puddles, I’m dancing towards the bathroom. The door is closed. I hear water running. Marina is humming. The melody is strangely familiar. I lift my fist. Before my fingers hit the wood a second voice tunes in. Deeper. Darker. Goosebumps cover my forearms. I turn on my heels. Fleeing once more.

My stomach growls. My fork pokes salad leaves, but the cutlery feels too heavy to lift. The sharp edges of the leaves are blurring in front of my eyes.

It’s low blood sugar. Come on, eat!

But I see the greens wilt in front of my eyes and push away the bowl. Around me, people are chatting. Stuffing their faces with today’s special menu. I look at Sandra half-eaten salmon. The table next to us shares a portion of the calamari. I force a fork of salad in my mouth. Suppressing the urge to spit it out immediately.

“What do you think?”

Sandra is shoving her phone screen in my face. I blink. I look at the screen. I flinch. I blink again. Curly brown hair. Pale skin with cute freckles. With shaking fingers, I rub my eyes.

Seriously. Sandra doesn’t like unnatural colors.

I check the photo again. No sign of a blue undertone. Brown with a few blond highlights. I smile even if it feels like a grimace. Then I nod, having completely lost track of our conversation.

“Don’t just nod! It’s serious! Should I go out with her or not? Or rather her?”

She hands me the phone, swipes and I see another face. It’s my own. My reflection. Then my breath gets caught. My chair scrapes over the tile floor. Staring at the phone I can only hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

“Not good? So, the first one. But this one’s really cute too.”

I switch off her screen and hand back the phone. My stomach cramps. The stare of the silvery eyes doesn’t waver. I focus on my salad. Then I hear it again. The melody Marina had been humming this morning. Dark. Alluring. Demanding. Shivers go down my spine. I cover my ears.

The light breeze only carries the scent of leaves and soil. I breathe in deeply and stare up the reddening sky. Bare feet touching the grass, I focus on the red disk, sinking slowly between the skylines. I feel tears well up my eyes. A sob escapes my mouth. Loud enough to make the passerby couple look at me. My fingers tighten around my shoes. Blinking a few times, I fight back the tears.

I walk further into the field. Nobody is around. The other visitors follow the laid-out paths. I stroll towards the small gazebo. The light of the setting sun reflects on its intricate arches, making it look like a delicate rose. A smile stretches my lips. I sigh.

Then I hear it again. Alluring. Demanding. Dangerous. The melody. My shoes drop on the grass. They don’t make sound. The melody engulfs me. My heart races. I try to swallow. I end up spitting. Murky water, too much to be saliva, lands on the grass. I continue coughing. Panting for air. Through teary eyes I see the gazebo in front of me. It’s now in a fiery red.

Help! Help me!

But nobody is there. No voice escapes my mouth. I sink to my knees. The coughed-up water has formed a circle around me. Trapping me.

“Please! I beg you!”

My voice is a faint whisper. Tears roll down my cheeks. Dripping in the water around me. Making it shimmer. Making it pulsate. As if alive. The melody is drowning out any other sound. I breathe it. My heart beats in its rhythm. My eyelids are growing heavy. So are my thoughts.

I don’t want to die.

“Always go with this first! Now I can help!”

It’s so incredibly difficult to open my eyes. Something touches my fingers. I turn my head. Nobody is there. I draw a labored breath. My lungs obey. My fingers curl.

“Good. Focus on that for now. But…”

I breathe. I stand up. Legs shaking.

“Well done. Now help me!”

“Help you?”

I look around. There is something. Black and yellow. A lizard. On my shoulder. My toes touch the water. The melody drops on me like a weight. Muddy water rushes back into my mouth.

“Yeah. You shouldn’t do that.”

“What is…”

“No time for that. First, give me your blood.”

I stare at the lizard.

“Move it, lady! Interested in drowning? GIVE ME YOUR BLOOD!”

A tidal wave of fear hits. I bite my finger. The lizard is on it in a flash. Fiery pain shoots up my arm. A manic laugh cuts through the melody. An outraged cry follows.