Animals

By Evelyn Chen Illustrated by Teah Laupapa “Good night, Cordelia and Georgia,” Mom said. She smiled at us and gently shut the bedroom door behind her. I listened as her footsteps receded down the hall. It was our first night at the beach house in Oregon. Every summer, we came down here with my cousins and stayed for a month. It was heaven—the days were filled with swimming, wading, gathering shells, sailing, and exploring the nearby shops. My cousin, Georgia, who was also thirteen like me, and I were suddenly given free reign and we went as we pleased, suddenly free from the cage of school and homework and parents that we had been restrained with for so long. I propped myself up on my elbow and grinned at Georgia in the semi-darkness. Moonlight streamed through the open window and a soft breeze caressed my curly black hair. The roo was small, with barely enough room with our cots side-by-side, a large dresser, and closet. It was painted a cheery yellow that looked gray in the dim light, and the lavender curtains fluttered like butterfly wings. Georgia smiled at me as she sat up, curled up in a pile of blankets. We looked almost identical—with shoulder-length, curly black hair that could never be tamed, bright blue eyes, and grins that never slid off our faces. Mom always said we could have been twins, for all people knew. “I can’t believe we’re finally here. Let’s go at low tide tomorrow and look for starfish and anemones,” I suggested. My fingers danced over the soft blankets that I had pushed to the side. It was much too warm for blankets. Mom always said we could have been twins “Sure!” Georgia said, her eyes lighting up. “I can’t wait for morning.” She shoved her blankets to the side and shifted on the cot, which creaked disagreeably. The plastic covering crinkled loudly. I lay down again, my eyes sliding shut. I could feel weariness tugging at me. It had been a long drive here and I was exhausted. I lay there, straining to keep my eyes open as I listened to Georgia chatter about our plans for the month. “Cordelia! Delia! Are you listening?” she called. She reached over and poked me. “I said, we should go boogie boarding if it’s not too cold.” “Huh? Oh, OK,” I said numbly, my sleep-deprived brain slow to reply. “Listen, I’m kind of tired. Can we sleep?” “Fine,” Georgia grumbled. She lay down again and turned over so we were facing each other. I smiled as my eyes slowly slid shut, giving way to darkness. I twisted frantically, my lungs burning for air. The fishing net around me chafed my arms and cut into my throat. I struggled in the chilly water, my bones aching with cold. My head throbbed with pain and I fought to not black out. Air… air… air… my very toes screamed for it. I thrashed like a dead fish as darkness consumed my vision… I sat bolt upright in the cot, drenched in cold sweat. My trembling fingers gripped the blankets hard. The dream flashed through my mind—I was caught, caught in a net, slowly drowning. I shook my head, trying to get the dream out of my mind. Just a dream, it was just a dream. I focused on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. I suddenly heard loud panting from next to me. I turned around and saw Georgia sitting up, shaking violently. She glanced at me, her eyes wide open and wild with fear. “What’s wrong?” I forced my voice to stay steady. Georgia swallowed hard. “A nightmare, that’s all.” My stomach turned over and I felt a wave of nausea pass over me. Was it just a coincidence that we had both had a nightmare at the same time? “What was it about?” I asked. My limbs were shaking harder than ever. I couldn’t stop my legs from bouncing up and down. Georgia gazed out the window, the moonlight illuminating her face. She sighed almost inaudibly. “Drowning. I was drowning in a net…” Her voice trailed off and she shivered. “No way. I had the same dream,” I whispered. Georgia whipped around so fast that her hair fanned out around her face. She gasped. “You’re joking.” I shook my head. We sat there, staring at each other. My mind was racing. “I-I,” I said weakly. I couldn’t get the words out. We gazed at each other in a tense silence. Cordelia… Delia … Georgia… Gia … A soft, melodious voice burdened with sorrow floated up from the window. The voice sent shivers down my spine, like water rippling over me. Something was calling my name. I slowly turned towards the window, my heart pounding hard in my ears. I could feel blood rushing to my head. Cordelia… Delia … Georgia… Gia … Almost unconsciously I stood up, pushing away from the cot. The blankets fell to the floor, thudding softly against the wood panels. My toes curled on the cold floor. I hugged my arms to my chest, the soft fleece warming me. I turned my head to see Georgia standing up. Her eyes were slightly vacant and her mouth was open a little. “Georgia,” I whispered hoarsely. I nodded towards the hallway. She inhaled deeply and nodded back, a silent communication going between us. I grabbed her arm and slowly cranked opened the door. The house was silent, except for the eerie ticking of the kitchen clock. Every bedroom door was closed. I paused to listen. I could hear a faint snoring and loud breathing. Everyone was asleep. We padded down the hall, wincing at every creak of the floorboards, but no door opened. Milky light cast shadows across the floors. We paused at the screen door leading to the beach. I let go of Georgia’s arm, and she let if fall limply to her side. I pressed my face