Surfacing.

He still cannot see, cannot hear. He isn’t in control of his body. But for this moment, this gasp, he can almost think again.

How can he fight this trap when the trap is his own mind? Below, he can’t think, can’t remember. Above, he can’t move, can’t look, can’t do.

He needs connection, to pull all the pieces of himself back together. He needs memory, to know himself when he is beneath, to own himself when he is above. He needs a trail of bread crumbs. He needs a rope tying himself together. He needs a path.

He is on a path. But that path doesn’t belong to him. He’s walking the maze, but it isn’t his maze. It’s her maze. He knows that in this moment. He will forget it when he drowns again.

He needs…he needs something of his own. Something to cling to. A lifeline. Something he can lock in his mind so tight that it follows him back under.

He sinks.