Overboard (3 page)

“No, we were all... really close,” she told her
nervously, trying to think hard about last summer. The more she
tried to recall her memories, the more they evaded her. She
couldn’t remember details... It was almost like staring into a void
and trying to see the bottom. The memories just weren’t there. “I
don’t know, Hallie. I don’t know.”

* * * * *

“Brenna, stop crying,” Chelsea told her sternly.

“They hate me! Everyone hates me,” she cried, leaning
on Chelsea and crying on her shoulder. “They all blame me, and I
didn’t even do anything!”

Chelsea patted her back gently. “Sometimes people
need someone to blame when a tragedy takes place. They just can’t
accept that there isn’t anyone to blame. It was just a freak
accident.”

With her mind racing, Brenna pulled away from her
friend, looking into her eyes. “Do you think she was meeting
someone at the lake? Do you think she was arguing with another camp
counselor?”

“No,” Chelsea said, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t you
have known if she was seeing someone?”

Brenna nodded. “She told me everything,” she told
her, feeling confused. “Do you think they invited me on this
vacation to trap me into telling them something?”

“What could you possibly have to tell them that they
don’t already know?”

“Nothing,” she answered after a long minute of
silence, trying to rack her brain for answers. “Nothing... I can’t
remember that far. Maybe if I thought about it more...”

“Stop,” Chelsea ordered her in a gentle tone. “You
can’t go back. We can only move forward. If there was useful
information in that big head of yours, you would have remembered it
already.”

Brenna laughed in the midst of her tears. “You’re
right.”

Chelsea smiled at her. “Now, you’re going to go to
your room and get some rest. Some sleep will put everything into
perspective.”

* * * * *

Brenna could feel herself falling deeper into
unconsciousness. She welcomed the quiet that only sleep could
bring. Allowing her mind to construct a scenario, Brenna began to
dream. Floating in still waters, she let her body drift, liking the
coolness of the water on her skin. Using her arms like paddles, she
managed to keep her body adrift with slow, broad strokes.

She smiled to herself.

She couldn’t recall feeling this relaxed since...

Suddenly feeling dread seeping painfully into her
stomach, Brenna’s eyes flew open.

In a moment of cognition, she caught a glimpse of a
shadowy figure standing over her. Cursing under her breath, she
righted herself in the water to get a better view. Kicking hard to
keep her head out of the water, she tried her best to digest what
was happening.

Brenna gasped. “Morgan?” she questioned in utter
disbelief, seeing her friend standing on a rowboat before her.

With the entire scene bathed in moonlight, it took
her a second to notice that Morgan’s face was twisted in a sneer,
and she was wielding a wooden paddle, holding it above her head in
a threatening manner.

“Have a nice swim, Bren?” she asked menacingly,
grinding her teeth together before she brought the paddle down on
Brenna’s head, hitting it with a sickening crack...

Disoriented, Brenna jumped up from her nightmare. She
could feel her hot tears as they ran down her cheeks and welled at
the base of her chin. Wiping her tears away, she looked around the
room, feeling relieved. She brushed her dark tresses from her face
and tried her best to steady her breaths. Placing a hand over her
chest, she willed her heart to slow its dysrhythmic beat.

“What is happening to me?” she asked herself,
shedding more tears.

Brenna couldn’t remember feeling more alone. Her
boyfriend ignored her. Her best friends doubted her. She was
getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with. Now, she
was dreaming about someone who was dead!

The only one she could trust was Chelsea, and she
hadn’t even known her for long.

Perhaps, what was most disturbing to her was that she
rarely dreamed. Brenna could go years without dreaming. So, why
now?

Throwing the covers off, she rose to her feet and
found her way to the bathroom in the dark. She switched on the
lights which blinded her temporarily. Rubbing the sleep from her
eyes, she stalked over to the sink. Running the cold water, she
splashed it on her tear-stained face, hoping the coolness of the
water would shock her into the present. However, her mind kept
drifting to the past...

Somehow her fun getaway had turned into an utter
disaster. Where did she go wrong? She couldn’t understand how
things had gone so bad. Why were people so willing to bring up the
past and ruin the present with their suspicions? What could
possibly be done at this point? Morgan had already been dead a year
and her death was labeled an accident. What did it help to relive
the past?

Stepping out of the bathroom, Brenna turned off the
light and tucked herself back into bed. As she made herself
comfortable, she heard the sound of a sliding glass door
opening.

Brenna looked at the door to her balcony which was
securely closed.
It must be Marissa
, she concluded.

Since her suite was just upstairs, it wouldn’t have
been uncommon for Brenna to hear the goings-on of the suite above
her. She focused her senses and heard Marissa talking. Although her
friend’s voice was muffled, Brenna could hear that Marissa was
arguing with someone!

Maybe, she is talking on her cell phone, she thought.
But how does she have reception in the middle of the Atlantic?

Brenna sat up in bed, struggling to hear Marissa’s
conversation.

Suddenly, there was a muffled scream.

Gasping, Brenna stared at her balcony doors,
transfixed. As shafts of moonlight penetrated the darkness, she
wondered if she should investigate what was happening in the suite
upstairs. However, fear caused her to remain exactly where she
was.

Beginning to hyperventilate, she stared at the
balcony doors, debating with herself. What if Marissa was in
trouble? What if she was just on the phone? Marissa was
overdramatic so it wouldn’t be uncommon for her to speak loudly
during telephone conversations...

Still, alarm bells were ringing in Brenna’s head.
There was a thickness in the air around her. Her stomach was in
knots. She intuitively knew something was wrong...

Suddenly, Brenna heard a loud thud as if a bowling
ball had been dropped on wooden planks. In the still of the night,
the thud was as clear as thunder. Shaking heavily, she threw the
sheets off, continuing to hesitate over whether to go to Marissa’s
suite. Her line of sight shifted from the glass doors to the
ceiling. She knew whatever she heard was not normal. Rising to her
feet, she continued to stare at the ceiling as she heard the sound
of something large being dragged across the floor above her.
Frozen, she followed the sound with her eyes until the night was
still once more.

Unaware of how much time she let pass, Brenna knew
she could delay her investigation no more. Marissa was in trouble,
and as far as she knew, she was the only one aware of it.

With her heart thudding in her chest, she stepped out
into the dark hallway. Inching forward, every part of her being
told her to turn back, but she couldn’t... She tingled with the
anticipation of what she would find once she reached Marissa’s
room.

As her mind raced with the dreaded possibilities, she
found herself wandering the second level, looking for Marissa’s
room. The only sources of illumination were these lights that
looked like something you would put on a Christmas tree. There were
these two long cords which flanked the carpet and ran the length of
the hall. They were not unlike those Brenna had seen in dark movie
theaters. Orman said it saved on oil if the lights were turned off
at night, but right now, she wished he had kept the lights on.

I am in room 302 so that would make Marissa’s room
202
, she thought as she continued down the dark corridor,
feeling the walls for room numbers.

“Bren?”

The sound of her name being uttered made Brenna
nearly jump out of her skin. Shaking, she turned abruptly to make
out the dark form in the hall. “Hallie?” she questioned as her mind
struggled to put a face to the voice.

“Yeah,” Hallie said. “What are you doing out of
bed?”

Brenna’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could see
her friend more clearly. Hallie was standing in her nightclothes
with her hands on her waist. Her hair was a mess and she appeared
to have just awakened.

“What are you?” Brenna asked suspiciously.

Hallie eyed her cautiously. “I was just getting
something to drink.”

Brenna stared at Hallie, trying to conclude whether
she should believe her. She couldn’t see very well, but she didn’t
see Hallie with a glass in her hand. “Where is the glass of
water?”

“I drank it in the kitchen... What’s with the
inquisition?” she asked angrily. “What are you doing up here
anyway?”

“Have you been following me?” Brenna asked shrilly,
trying to stop her body from trembling.

Hallie stood up straight and yelled, “Are you crazy?
What is wrong with you?”

“I have to check on Marissa,” she told her, spinning
on her heel and heading down the hall.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Hallie questioned nervously,
following Brenna.

Brenna ignored her, stopping right outside Marissa’s
door and knocking. “Marissa? Are you okay?” she called through the
door.

“What’s going on?” Hallie inquired.

“Marissa?” she called louder, instinctively reaching
for the doorknob and turning it. To Brenna’s surprise, the door
opened easily. The creak of it as it opened sent chills down her
spine. She cautiously stepped into the suite, hoping not to be
ambushed by whoever may have hurt her friend.

“What’s going on?” Hallie whispered, obviously
sensing Brenna’s tension. She hung back, watching her every move
nervously.

“Shh,” Brenna shushed her, fearfully holding her
breath.

Preparing herself for what she would see, she felt
the wall beside her for a light switch. When she found it, she
flicked it on.

Momentarily blinded, she prepared herself for a
fight, but she was met with silence. When she opened her eyes, she
found Marissa’s room was empty. Brenna’s eyes scanned the bed which
was made. Glancing at the rest of the room, there were no apparent
signs of a struggle. Marissa’s things were all in place, but she
was nowhere to be found.

“Will you tell me what is going on?” Hallie asked,
shouting.

“I heard something... I thought Marissa might have
gotten hurt,” Brenna said, gazing at the balcony doors which were
open.

The breeze was causing the curtains to billow which
gave Brenna an eerie feeling. Walking towards them, Brenna
inspected the balcony through the doors. When she found that
nothing was out of place, she slid them closed.

“I heard a scream,” she said, talking more to herself
than Hallie.

“Oh, please! She was probably getting it on with―”
Hallie started, but closed her mouth abruptly.

“With who?” Brenna questioned, turning to face
her.

Hallie averted her gaze guiltily.

“With who? Answer me right now!” she screamed, almost
frantic.

Hallie looked her in the eyes once more. “With
Dylan... It’s no secret they’ve been hanging out closely since we
boarded this ship. I saw them the other day, standing close to each
other and whispering about something... Something is obviously
going on between them.”

“Dylan has changed, and I know Marissa’s a flirt, but
they would never betray me,” Brenna said, feeling her blood begin
to boil.

“It’s not like Dylan has the best track record,”
Hallie said sarcastically.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Hallie placed her hand on her hip, obviously annoyed.
“Don’t play dumb, Brenna,” she said. “You know Dylan and Morgan had
something going on...”

“He never dated Morgan,” Brenna said, balling her
fists at her side.

“Is that what he told you?” Hallie asked in a
belittling tone. “Well, that is not what Morgan told me. They had
something going on before he dumped her. He may even have been
dating the two of you at the same time. So, believe what you
want.”

Fuming, Brenna could feel her face grow hot as her
cheeks flushed. She wanted to punch Hallie in the face, but she had
to find out if there was any truth to her words.

Without further hesitation, she marched passed Hallie
and down the hall to the staircase. She flew up the stairs to the
first level, and walked towards the bow of the ship where Dylan’s
room was. Standing outside of suite 152, Brenna lifted her fist to
the door and pounded on it with all of her might.

Dylan opened the door to his suite just enough for
Brenna to push through, barging into the room and looking through
all the places a person could hide.

“What’s going on?” he asked after nearly being
squashed between the door and the wall.

“Where’s Marissa?” Brenna asked furiously as her eyes
darted around the suite.

“What? I don’t know,” he said groggily, rubbing his
eyes. He appeared as if he had been asleep when Brenna came
knocking. His voice which was usually deep and smooth was now
hoarse. His hair was sticking up messily, and his night clothes
were wrinkled.

Marching towards Dylan, she demanded, “Are you seeing
her behind my back?”

“No!” he said, his eyes opened wide with surprise.
“What are you talking about?”

“So, what is going on? You have been acting distant,
and everywhere you go Marissa follows you like a lost puppy.”

“She does not!” he shouted at her, obviously
irritated by her accusations. “Where is all this coming from,
Bren?”