Water lapped between her chin and neck, each wave colliding to the beat of her heart. Violet had always admired the ocean. She’d been told stories of beautiful blues; stories of gentle waves glazing the sandy shores. However, none of those stories mentioned how the water could fill your body and infiltrate your lungs until the only thing left was the slow, seemingly never ending pounding of your heart.

“Violet!” yelled a voice.

Searching deep in her mind, she tried desperately to remember where she’d heard that voice before. Who it was and why they would be screaming her name.

Violent waves continued to thrash against her whilst she fought the current. She fought and fought until her whole body was shaking and she was pretty sure she could see blue at the tips of her fingers. Until a long rope splashed in front of her.

Violet could have checked who had thrown it. Maybe she should have. And maybe she would have, if it weren’t for the growing pain in her throat and the trembling that began at her neck and ended at her toes. So, she grabbed the rope and let it pull her to what she thought would be safety.

It was not.

“You alright there lass?” asked a man once she’d crawled out of the water.

He was a shorter, older man; grey hairs stuck out amongst the ocean of brown atop his head. One hand outstretched, he gazed up at her expectantly. She shook his hand - determined to get home. Except…

Where was home?

The question tugged at her mind until all the water had gone and it was the only thing left. Until a new question emerged.

Why couldn’t she remember?

“I’m fine I just-“

An overwhelming feeling of distrust overtook her. Something about this man scared her. It could’ve been his crooked smile. Or maybe it was his jacket with one too many pockets.

“You just what?” he asked; pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Where am I?”

Another thing to the list of what she couldn’t remember.

“You’re home darling” he replied in a sickeningly sweet voice.

She should have turned back. In fact, she almost did. But it was too late. He had his grasp on her. Her mind was his for the taking, and she enjoyed that idea far too much. No worrying or fearing. It would be bliss. Painful, ignorant bliss.

She suddenly couldn’t remember why she’d been afraid. She should have.

But she couldn’t.