This is part of a work in progress, in which my protagonist has an accident that coincides with the beginning of her psychic talent. She’s part of Generation F, brave, and refusing to abandon her friend.
She couldn’t leave her friend down there alone. Though everything in her head said no, Cassidy took off her top and unbuckled her belt. She stepped out of her shoes and made a neat pile of her clothes, then stopped when she noticed somebody standing off in the tree line. It was Travis, propped up against a tree trunk like he might faint, pushing his thick glasses up his sweaty nose. “You shouldn’t be swimming in the quarry,” he said in a prissy voice. “It’s dangerous. There’s junked cars down there, and slate at the edges so sharp it could cut you.”
“I have to,” Cassidy said. “My friend’s down there. But do me a favor? Would you call somebody? I think something bad’s going to happen.”
He stared at her, then turned his back and went into the woods.
She walked up to the cliff edge and heard Jacey frantically call, “Come down, Cassidy. It’s really nice.” Cassidy shielded her eyes from the sun and could see how worried Jacey was.
Cassidy closed her eyes and willed her flip-flopping stomach to stop. One, two, three, she counted off in her head, then added, Help me, God, before jumping off the cliff, feeling the hair lift off the back of her neck as she plummeted into the water.
She went down deep, the water getting colder as she descended. Then Cassidy felt something grasp her ankle, keeping her rooted to the depths. She was scared to look, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that her foot was lodged between an old mossy window and a rusted car door. She looked up and could see wavering sunlight at the surface of the water, along with the churning legs of Jacey and the boys as they treaded water. Then she felt something else touch her leg.
Cassidy thought maybe her contacts had slipped out in the water because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing—a hand snaked out from the open window of the car with green mold or algae on it. The thumb grazed her shin and that digit felt colder than the water, causing all the air to bubble out of her lungs as she silently screamed. She took in a lungful of brackish water and her vision was starting to go dark when she saw a face she recognized—Chuck.