This is Where Her Life Changes… Or, ah, “Ends”

No matter how many times Scarlett scanned the letter, the words did not change, her father’s handwriting eternally documenting her mother’s death on the flimsy paper. It was an accident — apparently, she was hit by a truck while crossing the road. She didn’t deserve to go that way. She was a good mother, a good person. A trickle of memories dripped into Scarlet’s mind. Going birdwatching with her mother as she pointed out “all the little local birdies” to her; the first time they went to the beach together, when Scarlett fell in love with the sea.

Scarlett began to sob.

What else could you do? I would certainly break down, too. And break down she did. At this time, her frantic thoughts looked something like this:

Mom… died? How? Why didn’t they call me?! Did they call me? Why did you have to abandon them, Scarlett?! You moron! I never even got to say goodbye. I just ran away like a pathetic loser. And now I can never get that back. What’s even the point anymore? Why am I—

…Is that smoke?

She sniffed the air a few more times. Her train of thought utterly halted by the scent of burning, she turned around.

The candle… It had fallen over! She lit it on the edge of her desk and simply left it there.

Rather foolish, hm?

She traced the path with her eyes, following the candle, the spilled wax, the burning garbage, the cup noodles— the garbage! It was on fire, and it was spreading fast.

Scarlett panicked. She ran to stamp it out, hopping over the obstacles left as mini-monuments to her depression. With vigor the likes of which she hadn’t felt in years, she stomped haphazardly at the flames. But it was that haphazardness that would be her downfall. Another sharp pain struck her foot, buried somewhere beneath it all. Perhaps a stray staple, perhaps a leftover knife on its edge, perhaps a broken plate — we may never know. She cried out in pain, stunned, and fell backwards, failing to stop the fire.

Voracious, the flames hungrily lapped at everything within reach. The cardboard, the crumpled paper, the food containers, the bags — all sacrificed to the beast.

Picking herself up from the fall, she realized she had fallen on the other side of the flames, trapped against the wall. She looked on in horror as her field of view filled with a kaleidoscope of orange and yellow, the smoke erasing each and every stream of gray light from the single window next to her pillow. The disaster had expanded from the desk to the bed, consuming everything in its wake, leaving no room to fight back. She was pinned.

Scarlett lamented, Why isn’t the smoke alarm— before remembering that she had neglected to replace the batteries for over three months now, despite multiple reminders.

Maybe this is what she deserved. For abandoning her family. For proving herself wholly incapable of any real achievement. For being lazy and not replacing the smoke alarm batteries. For not being there for her mother’s death. For living a slovenly and lethargic life instead of making a difference, or working hard.

Of course, you and I know that this isn’t true. People have their struggles, and all are deserving of life. But as the flames tickled her feet, the only thought on her mind was how it was a fitting end for a wreck such as herself.

Scarlett wailed. Her career was dead in the water, and her mother was actually gone. She could do nothing, she realized. She had done nothing.

Smoke darkened her vision. Her mind, feeling foggier and foggier, struggled to maintain consciousness. It was hard to breathe, her throat choking on the taste of ash.

Her final thoughts were of regret. Pain. She wished she had done something with her life. Been more than what she was. Talked with her parents more. Made more friends. Worked harder at school. Made it into the Institute. Gone on more research trips to the reef.

She wished she had gotten to say goodbye to her mother.

And it was there, in her solitary, messy apartment, that Scarlett perished.

~~~~~~

Of course, that isn’t totally true, and you know that. We’ve barely begun, after all! Don’t you worry, now. The stage has only just been set.

So, where do we find Scarlett next?

Rain.

That was what it was. The rush of rain was what woke Scarl— Wait, no.

Her hearing became clearer, unmuddied. Rain doesn’t sound like that at all. Where was she? Her eyes fluttered open, and she choked back a cry of bewilderment.

An impossible vista stared back at her. She had seen this view before. Many times, in fact, during her research. But without the proper gear, it should’ve been hidden away.

Scarlett was underwater. She was sure of it. Characteristic of a sunny day beneath the waves in the tropics, enchanting rays of sunlight beamed down, casting themselves into the water. She could never mistake it: those gentle curtains of light, dancing with the motion of the secret world beneath the surface, were one of her favorite things to see in the world.

Resting against a surprisingly comfortable rock, breathing just as normally as if on land, Scarlett found herself submerged in what appeared to be the ocean. The breathing was the strangest thing to her; automatic, yet she felt no oxygen tank on her back. Entirely unburdened, yet as natural as… Well, breathing, she supposed. It certainly smelled like the ocean, salty as brine, the taste of it lingering on the tongue.

She tore her attention away from the shimmering light above her. Aside from the gorgeous underwater view of the filtered sunlight infinitely refracting through the chaos of the waves, a barren environment surrounded her. The sea floor itself felt plush, the same as that perfect, untouched sand just beneath the tide at the beach. She squished the sand between her toes, the sensation comforting her through the confusion.

Huge rocks lay strewn about, littered here and there as if their sole purpose was to offer a sense of distance. There were other rock formations, the details of which Scarlett couldn’t quite make out, scattered close to each of the massive outcroppings. The flatness wasn’t necessarily notable, but the complete and utter lack of any life at all most certainly was. She thought she saw a human-like shadow off in the distance, but didn’t get a good enough look before it disappeared.

A ways off, maybe 200 meters or so, the sea floor dropped off suddenly, giving way to utter darkness. Edge of the neritic zone, I guess, Scarlett thought.

Hold on now, Scarlett, don’t go thinking words like that. We don’t know what that means.

Scarlett continued, Though the lack of any and all life is kind of startling, given the conditions present. This is perfectly within the photic zone.

Well, she was a marine biologist, after all. I suppose this is where she’d be the most comfortable. I apologize for any complex terms. Perhaps I can consult the library while Scarlett gets her bearings.

One moment.

…Ah, it appears the neritic zone is roughly equivalent to what you might call the continental shelf. Photic, on the other hand… Oh, interesting. “Photic” refers to the depths of the ocean that sunlight can reach. When it gets too dark, it’s called “aphotic.” Fascinating.

Oh, sorry. Back to Scarlett.

Having mustered the courage to get up and examine her surroundings, Scarlett took a tentative step away from the rock where she was brought into this world. Something immediately caught her eye the moment she moved. An imposing shadow lurked in the distance, drifting through the sea just beyond the edge of the shelf.

Quite simply, it was massive, bigger than any living organism Scarlett had ever even heard of. Moreover, its silhouette gave the impression of… a predator. Those spikes surely weren’t for saying hello, she imagined. It kept its distance from approaching, but she noted to be cautious by the edge all the same.

Now standing, she took a moment to feel the new world she had found herself in. Though she was underwater, it felt very different from swimming in the reefs of the Pacific. The water surrounding her inhibited her movement far less than the oceans she knew. Whatever was allowing her to breathe permitted freer movement, too. The fluid still felt present, however. She moved her arm about, feeling the water flow through her fingers. The sensation was odd, the freedom of movement an impossibility to her brain.

She was still human, at least. She had half expected to become some kind of magic fish-person after realizing she was breathing underwater. But no, two arms, two legs, one head, and no gills. Normal as can be.

Clothes adorned her body, though barely. Scarlett would call them more rags than underwear, but they covered everything important. Looking down was a bit of a shock, though. Was that view different? Her chest was…

Alright. Don’t be creepy, now, you.

What am I to call you, anyways? Observer? Hmm, no, too clinical.

Would you like a name? I can call you “Obbie,” if you’d like. Much cuter than “observer.”

That shall do for now. Back to Scarlett, whom you are not leering at.

Thankfully, there was nobody near her. Deciding that heading away from the giant sea-monster was probably the best course of action, she skittered up the rock to get a view of the path inland. The climb was easier than she expected. Guess I’m still somewhat buoyant.

Scarlett noticed that her muscles felt more capable, as well. Her new body was lean and toned, from what she could tell from her little climb.

She looked her perch over. Not a single trace of life — aside from the giant monster off in the distance, of course — appeared. No corals, no embedded fossils. Well, I can’t exactly see phytoplankton, but if they were present, this place would be a lot livelier. We can rule those out, too.

Another marine term, hm? Let me see. Phytoplankton are microorganisms that live in the photic zone of the ocean, it seems. The basis for all marine photosynthesis, even. Too small to see with the human eye. An astute observation, Scarlett.

Scarlett was a little harsher on herself. As if I know enough to say that definitively. Haven’t even been on a dive in a year. I’m no expert.

Her overly critical mutterings were interrupted by something at her feet. Lodged in the side of the stone at her feet, was it a tool? She bent down to nab it, breaking it out of the earthen prison with ease.

Scarlett held a rusty dagger in her hand. This thing was weathered — if she had to guess, it had been here for over a decade. It wasn’t sharp, but with a little cleaning, it might be a fine weapon. A pattern appeared to have once been engraved on the hilt, but she couldn’t make it out with the dirt and sand crusted into it. An interesting find, at least. She tucked it into the waistband of her ragged clothing.

Hopping down a little, she began to find a path back to the sea floor, ready to explore a little more. Feeling strong and powerful, she paid less attention than she should have to her footing. One small misstep, and a giant chunk of unstable rock broke off, clattering down the side.

Close one, Scarlett thought.

Behind her, above the abyss, a deep cry bellowed out. Scarlett whipped her head back, only to see the once-passive silhouette slowly approaching. Oh, that is not good.

She scrambled back up the rock. Could she fight that thing with her new dagger? No, it was too dull and dirty, caked in rock and earth. What other options did she have?

Scarlett got the feeling that if a dagger wouldn’t be enough, throwing a rock at it wouldn’t be either. Running it is, then.

Quickly scanning the route ahead, she noticed another one of the outcroppings with inscrutable details on the other side of her rock. But it wasn’t an outcropping.

On closer inspection, there was no mistaking that it was a corpse. A skeleton, picked clean, armor torn through, sword and scabbard crusted with barnacles — hey, there’s some life down here, at least.

Needless to say, Scarlett was not in a safe place.

The creature behind her bellowed once more. It sounded a lot closer now.

A chill ran down her spine. The sunlight, no longer warm and inviting, turned gray. This was a graveyard.