[ He should sit up too, but his mind is still reeling with what it can remember of the dream. What he can remember is vividly clear in his mind, and he can hear the sounds of the lake's waves and Barbara's voice and Alice's voice calling for him. His hands clench into fists as he tries his best to sort through what he saw in his dream. ]

I remember... Alice drowned, or Barbara said she did. She said I could fix it by writing the story. Changing the story to save Alice. I could get it all back if I just wrote the right things.

But I didn't want to; I mean, I wanted to, but not like that. Not with some creepy lady all in black hovering over me. [ He scrubs his face with one hand as bits of memories come and go. ]

There was a sound at the window, and a diver. I think I've seen the diver before. The diver was trying to help, and the sound... the sound was too, somehow. Barbara didn't want me looking out the window; she didn't want me hearing the sound. But I did look out the window sometimes, and I couldn't not hear the sound.

The sound and the diver got me out. I wonder what happened to the diver after that.