Jennifers Obsession Gone Fishing

About twenty minutes passed and, nothing. She began wondering whether she was being a little silly – it wouldn't be that unusual for someone to be visiting Andrew for one reason or another, she thought, but then he wasn't expecting me back until late in the evening because I'd planned on spending the Sunday day up in Castleton; the plan had changed because today, Jennifer was missing Andrew more than usual for a reason she couldn't quite fathom. She began slowly reversing the car up the road, peering at the front door all-the-while. As she neared, one of the oak trees temporarily obscured her view, giving her a second to check for other traffic as she rolled on by – it was clear. As the tree began to give way she felt her body tremble and her tummy felt as if she were on a roller-coaster ride – the front door was open. She quickly gathered herself, stopped the car, and slipped the gear-change into first. Her whole body trembled as she edged the car forward a little, trying to remain camouflaged as best she could without losing sight of the door. She glimpsed a figure stepping out from the darkness of the hall. She suddenly felt as if she'd been whipped away by a distant black hole in another universe and it seemed to be sucking the breath from her lungs and was tossing her about all ways making her feel sick and dizzy and breathless.

It's... It's Hannah; I know it is, she thought, as her foot stamped on the accelerator. The car raced off at full throttle, pinning Jennifer to the seat as her head swam with a thousand different thoughts. She swerved down the avenue at break-neck speed, gasping for air and trying desperately to regain full control of her limbs. The panic set her heart pounding with such force she thought it might just burst out of her rib-cage, and she could feel herself slipping into a blackness and then suddenly back out again only for it to happen all over again. Now she was sure she was going to be sick and she'd broken out into a cold sweat. She was losing it, losing it fast. The car suddenly skidded to a halt at as she approached the end of the avenue. Her head was spinning, and spinning. The nausea, the trembling, the heart pounding, she couldn't go on, she just couldn't. The blackness came again, this time making her slump forward with her head thudding onto the steering wheel. At least she'd managed to stop in time. Seconds later, the pungent stench of burning rubber crept in through her half-opened window and worked as smelling salts, bringing her back to her just-shattered, miserable world. I'm going to die; I know I am, she thought, looking out ahead through half-opened, teary eyes, still feeling quite sick. At least this grogginess has slowed my mind down, she thought, as she placed a hand over her mouth in the hope it would stop her being sick – she didn't have the strength top get out of the car to be sick.

A few minutes passed and her breathing gradually slowed to almost normal, but she still trembled and felt quite ill, although not as much as earlier. She shakily slipped the car into gear and rolled off out of the avenue, heading... anywhere but home.

She began to settle down somewhat as the other traffic and the like stole her attention away from what she'd just witnessed; it was quite therapeutic, although the image of 'Hannah' leaving the house was fixed in her head like a giant bill-board which completely filled her mind. I suppose that's it for us now, she thought, as she began to leave the business of the built-up area for the tranquillity of the sparsely populated surrounding valleys.

That's what all that bullshit was about the other day; has anyone called around and being worried for my safety, and making up that crap about the 'occult' – for fuck's sake, she thought, turning into the centuries-old country lanes. I knew it was bullshit when he told me; I fucking knew it, she continued, getting angry with herself for having been so gullible. He was fucking worried that Hannah was going to turn up for some reason... probably because she was stood up in Paris the other fucking week, she reasoned, as the memory of almost having caught him out only the other week flashed through her mind – the letter, the tickets, the story about Edward; it was all fucking bullshit, the bastard. It was all falling into place now, all making perfect sense.

About twenty minutes later she'd twisted her way through the lanes and had ended up at Woodside Lake, so-called for obvious reasons (it was an old reservoir that hadn't been used as a water source for years now and had become a fishery, although in the summers you'd get all sorts up here swimming, rowing, sunbathing and the like).

The car crunched over the gravel parking area and jerked to a halt, in between a jeep of some sort and a small van. Jennifer slowly lifted her hands from the steering wheel, looking at her palms as if she might find solace there somewhere. All of a sudden she grabbed at her hair, pulling it and wailing and sobbing at the same time as the snarled up mess in her mind found its way out into the world. Soon she was banging her hands at the steering wheel, kicking her feet out at the pedals, and her head was shaking back and forth with her mouth open, screaming, as if it might let the anguish inside escape outwards from its bodily confines and leave her in peace, only it didn't.

The intensity of the mental and physical exertions soon ordered her body to flop forward over the wheel with her remaining drops of energy being used up in the form of sobbing, quietly. Her sobbing eventually became snivelling and she gradually felt herself drifting off into a light sleep, occasionally rousing to whimper a little before slipping away again.

About an hour later she began to flicker and twitch like a bear in springtime stirring from its long hibernation. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again as the dancing, afternoon sunlight on the surface of the lake ahead raced across the water and pierced her eyes like a thousand needles. She rubbed her eyes and tried again, but only opening them halfway this time; it seemed to work. She reached her arms out to her sides, stretching, and yawning at the same time. She rubbed her eyes once more before opening the door of her car and turning in her seat so her feet came to rest on the floor outside. She leant forward with her elbows coming to rest on her knees and held her hands to her face, trying to squeeze some life back into her sleepy features. She eventually dragged herself upright and stretched again, before trying to seek some pleasure in the beauty of a nearby cherry-blossom tree that had given up some its pink petals to the gravel of the car-park ground making it look like a scene from a wedding. She half-smiled as she shut the door of her car and began dragging herself out towards the lake.

I feel so weak, she thought, fighting back a welling of tears that were jostling to escape from her still slightly sore eyes. And my mind... I think I'm going fucking crazy, she deduced, but not really caring if she did. It's all over for me, all fucking over, she said to herself, lazily plodding along the bank with her head hanging low and wishing for some sort of tragedy to strike, like a freak bolt of lightning, that would end her life and put an end to this sick, despair that was sure to be her fate from here-on-in. Nobody can live feeling like this... there's just NO FUCKING WAY... fuck, fuck, fuck, she thought, starting to think about running in the hope of leaving the feeling behind, only she knew it wouldn't work and besides, she didn't have the strength – she could barely manage to walk.

She suddenly stopped and put her hand to her mouth again fearing she may be sick... but it passed and she continued to move. She couldn't really be bothered to walk but she couldn't sit and do nothing either; in fact she didn't know what to do about anything at all now. I'm going to die, I can feel it, I just fucking know it! You can't survive long like this, she thought as her head started to spin and her limbs had become so weak they trembled like leaves in a breeze. She quickly sat herself down on top of the grassy bank and pulled her knees up tight to her chest. She rocked gently as she looked out across the vast expanse of water, appearing as if she'd just come around from having had a lobotomy – she didn't seem aware of anything; herself or her surroundings.

A half-hour passed and nothing; she hadn't budged, apart from the gentle rocking motion. Another half-hour passed and still nothing. Then, all of a sudden, like a robot that had just had its switch flicked onto 'go', she rose to her feet and strode purposely toward the pier-like structure that stood proud of the bank she'd been sitting on.

A minute later, she stepped out onto the metal sheets that covered the hollowness of the interior of the stone-built structure and marched out toward its end. She clasped her hands tightly around the steel tubular fence that penned in the pier-top's surface and leant forward, peering downwards at the murky, green depths that started at about thirty feet below where she stood (the pier was a residual structure from the water's reservoir days – it contained piping and the like that once connected the lake to a pump-house that still stood at the bottom of a long and very steep bank behind the pier, although it was almost completely hidden now by trees that had grown up around it.)

A cool breeze blew up from the surface of the water, causing her long, brunette hair to tumble about as if driving an open-top car, but she was oblivious to anything and everything as she stared through the glassy surface of the water at nothing, trying hard to imagine what it might feel like to be slowly sinking through the cold, dark depths. It'll put an end to all this, was the best she could muster as she straightened up and looked out across to the opposite bank some mile or so away but not really seeing anything despite there being a vast deciduous woodland running up from all sides occasionally broken by the odd meadow or two, except on the bank she was stood on.

Almost as if she'd just received instruction from an outside source and one she was compelled to obey, she released her grip on the steel tubing she was holding, turned around, and began undressing. She whipped her vest-top up over her head, slipped her flip-flops from her feet, and tugged her joggers off. Stark naked, she leisurely folded her joggers up, then her vest-top, and finally, placed her flip-flops on top of the neatly folded clothes.

Christ, I feel weird, she thought, as she stood upright. It's as if I'm looking at myself, through a dream or something, she puzzled, turning back to look out across the water again. Oh fuck, I'm losing touch with reality now, she thought, holding the palm of her left hand tightly to her forehead as if it might stop her mind from escaping the limits of her head. A sense of panic started to grow and swell inside her like an inflating balloon, causing her to breathe fast and shallow and her heart to race. She quickly reached out in front of herself and grabbed a hold of the metal fence, her mind suddenly and silently entranced by the light-footed twinkles of light racing haphazardly across the lake's surface; it slowed her breathing down somewhat but she could still feel the palpitations. Using her right foot she felt for the lower rung of the fence and pressed herself upwards, bringing her other foot alongside in the process. She lifted her right foot again, but to the top rung this time. Her left foot quickly followed and with both feet in place she let her hands slip free and snapped herself upright, wobbling a little as she did so. All was silent, except for the occasional whisper of a breeze; the absence of sound seemed to lend a touch of gravity to the scene, as if the world was holding its breath as it anxiously awaited Jennifer's next move. She looked up to the heavens and raised her hands high overhead. She gulped as tears ran down both cheeks, and her head swam with a cacophony of thoughts. The purest kind of despair began to fill her head like an aggressive, malignant tumour.

"Bit of skinny dipping, is it love?" a man bellowed from down below, instantly dissipating the huge electrical charge that had, until now, been growing and growing in Jennifer's head. She felt herself almost jump out of her skin as all that pent-up electricity leapt from her head like a bolt of lightning, wobbling her as it discharged. She momentarily felt normal again and quickly squatted down low, gripping the fence tightly with her hands, and feet, but still wobbling nonetheless. She couldn't help but glance down at where the intruding voice had emanated from.

She fleetingly eyed a heavily tanned, short-haired fellow, who was wearing a sleeveless jacket with a tee-shirt underneath, and who was sat in a dirty, old boat with what appeared to be fishing paraphernalia littered around him. She felt her legs kick out and her hands grasp at nothing but thin air as the only thing she saw now was the clear, blue skies overhead. She felt her mouth open up wide as a wall of Victorian stone-work flashed past her side. Her heart leapt from the palpitations of only a moment ago to the beat of an angry jungle-tribe's war drums. She saw her hair flap and wave in front of her eyes, sometimes obscuring the stone-work, as she tried desperately to force the scream out of her mouth but had to make do with a barely audible gargle. Her body felt as if she were floating, and she was, downwards at a considerable speed and in a completely undignified manner. She watched her hands reach out and pointlessly grab at the sky, seemingly in slow motion.

Whack! Her eyes snapped shut with the impact - it was like being hit from behind by a moving bus as her bare skin stingingly slapped against the deceptively hard, watery surface. Her lungs had no choice but to violently expel their contents and she was forced to curl up in a foetal-like position as a cold blanket of water wrapped itself around her as tight as a lover's embrace. Her body began wildly flapping its limbs as the instinct to survive hit red-alert. Her opened eyes glimpsed straggles of her hair floating about her face, broken up by whooshes of bubbles. The background was a murky green, as it had appeared from above, but now she could also see rays of sunlight diving through the depths like spears. Her head spun to the opposite side as she frantically kicked in an effort to propel herself upwards toward the light and something touched her thigh. Her flooded eyes strained to see what appeared to be an eel, vertically bending and wriggling alongside her, right next to her shoulder – it was a weed. She kicked again and again with her arms flapping as if she were a sparrow trying to evade a hawk as every last ounce of her body overflowed with fright. Not only her head but her torso too broke through the suffocating surface of her fluid surroundings. Her mouth spouted water high into the life-giving air like a geyser, before gravity thumped her back down until only her head stood proud of the lake's surface. She coughed and spluttered, stealing gasps of air when she could as she flapped and rolled, desperately heading towards the safety that the sloping bank of stone offered. The water eventually leaked away from her eyes, restoring her vision to normal, although the amount of adrenalin coursing through her body was almost certainly abnormal. She splashed and crawled her way around the mossy, stone walls of the pier, eager to lift her body clear of the deceptively cold water and all that it harboured. A pair of warm hands grabbed at her cold flesh and she embarrassedly yielded, letting them help heave her aboard the small vessel from which they came; a rowing boat. He heaved and she scrambled, causing the boat to list heavily on its right side. She managed to claw her torso up over the right-hand rear of the little, wooden structure. The palm of a hand dug deep against the flesh on the back of her right thigh and heaved, helping her cold, naked body to sprawl aboard in a rather unlady-like fashion.

"Bloody hell, love; I don't think you meant to do that, did you?" her aide said, tongue-in-cheek as he sat himself down on a plank that stretched from side-to-side across the middle of the boat. Jennifer sat herself on the small seating area at the boat's rear, trying to restore some dignity to her hair and doing the best she could to hide her bits.

"You might wanna get some practise in before you go trying to dive off something like that again; going on that effort," he said, smiling to himself rather than at Jennifer.

Jennifer looked across to him with raised eyebrows, half smiling, before her face wrinkled up in a tearful, sobbing, outward display of her inner self.

"Bloody hell; I was only joking love," he said, as he jumped to his feet and rocked the boat somewhat in the process. He bent over, reaching down to her with open arms. Reflex-like, she reached out to him and wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her face onto his shoulder, stifling her sobs. His right hand patted her back softly, as if she were a child who'd just grazed their knees.

"I'm sorry luv, but I was only joking when I said you couldn't dive," he muttered, feeling a little awkward with holding her young, wet, naked body so close. Jennifer managed a sort of laugh mixed with a sob at his suggestion of having upset her over not being able to dive.

"There we are; see, it's not that bad, is it?" he said, reassuringly. His words momentarily stopped Jennifer from breathing.

I'm not actually going to die, am I? That's just STUPID! I'm not going to fucking die; it just feels like that, at the moment, but I'm not really. It's all a matter of time, that's all... a period of readjustment... it'll all settle down. After all, change is the only constant, and this is just another of those changes. Admittedly, it's not quite as simple as that because this is a BIG fucking change, but you just have to deal with it, move on... that's the challenge of life; adapting and surviving in this ever-changing world we live in. Some make the changes... some don't – survival of the fittest, and I'm FIGHTING fucking fit. Yeah, it's NOT that bad; just another chapter in the big, old book of life.

The blackness Jennifer had felt began to brighten, not much, but enough to see the source of the light and that was where she intended on heading, straight toward it. Her arms flexed as she tightened her grip on the saviour whose words of wisdom served to heal her like a witch-doctor's spell. The image of that woman leaving her house suddenly flew from her mind like a frightened pigeon as she concluded that the 'woman' could have been absolutely anybody, certainly not anyone special at all; it was merely a reflection of how they just weren't right for each other. She glanced out to her side, looking across the water's glistening surface, pondering further.

How strange is that? We've conquered just about everything in our world for us humans to stand tall at the top of the tree and yet our greatest enemies, the ones that pose the greatest threat to our very existence, are each other. We can't help but damage each other and those around us... with a few exceptions of course - as with everything - but not many. I suppose that's something we'll never conquer or control... is each other... no matter how advanced we become or however much control we exercise over our environment, we'll always be the pawns in nature's game – survival of the fittest. Well...

The fisherman interrupted. "Okay now luv?" he enquired, as he pushed on her shoulders and held her steady about a foot or so away from her, trying to make a point of not looking at her full but pert breasts.

"Never better," she said, looking him in the eye and feeling as if she'd just woken from a deep, refreshing slumber. She watched his green eyes drift downwards and onto her breasts where they lingered for a moment before snatching themselves upwards and onto her face again.