Cat! That was the word I was fishing for. The thing I chased into this empty room was called Cat. I suppose I should try to track it down, wherever it ran off to. It was old enough to suggest someone loved and took care of it, so that same someone should be missing it.

It's odd tracing my footsteps back to the pillar where the old cat had gone missing. The squish of water beneath my shoes makes me realize it's real, and not an illusion. I'll deal with the whole saltwater thing later, I need to find this animal and get some answers.

The schedule is still in my hand, but seeing as I can't even tell the time from where I am, there isn't much reason for me to try and follow it. Besides, it's so soaked by this point that the ink is bleeding and the fibers of the paper are starting to fall apart. I figure it couldn't hurt to drop the thing on the floor, so that's where I'll leave it.

"Here kitty kitty,"

My voice surprises me. It's almost a gurgle, like my lungs were still filled with water. But that's not possible, how could I breathe if it were? And why was the idea of waterlogged lungs so familiar to me?

The old cat appears at the edge of my vision, another low miaow leaving it's jaws. I'm going to keep following it until it takes me where I need to go.

For as old as it was, that animal could run. I wanted to tread carefully through the haunting halls, but the quicker the creature ran the faster I was forced to follow. The sound of it's paws hitting the tile almost echoed down the long corridor. I had little time to take in my surroundings as I chased the thing. It led me to an open room, then promptly disappeared behind a pillar. That was the last I saw of the mangled pile of fur and bones.

Only then did I take a moment to catch my breath and gaze at the walls surrounding me. Dozens of framed portraits glared down at me, urging me to avert my gaze. I studied each one for a moment before moving to the next, curiously searching for a name. Beside the framed pictures of men and women was a collection of what looked like class photos, dozens of them, all stacked from the bottom of the wall to the top. They had years on them. I thought I was clever when I realized it was the year each class graduated, but that confidence drained when I realized some of them had dates set far in the future.

I was right back where I started, confused, out of sorts, and alone. I stole another look at the class photos.

As I turned around, something crinkled in my pocket, something that hadn't been there before, I'm sure. I pulled it out to get a better look. It was a piece of paper that quickly grew saturated as I held it. Confused, I glanced at my hands. My palms were dry, but the longer I held the paper the darker it grew with liquid. I lifted the parchment to my face and sniffed. It smelled like seawater. I turned around to see if somehow, someone else was responsible. Instead I found a trail of water following me into this main room from the hallway, the shape of my footsteps clearly outlined in a puddle or two. Somehow, I was dry, but I was also dripping salt water.

By then my head was starting to hurt. I looked back at the paper in my hand and tried to understand what it said before it fell apart. It looked like a class schedule.

It took the courage of twenty men to step foot outside this room. I would like to believe I wasn't always this cowardly, that maybe my bravery got lost during the voyage here, but there's no way to know.

At first there was not another soul in sight. I glared down the long corridors leading away from my room and felt seasick. It went on forever, but there was no one else wandering these halls. Maybe I was dead. For a moment I considered ducking back into my room and waiting to see what became of me, and that's when I heard a familiar miaow.

A splash of memory surfaced at the sound, but quickly dissipated when I located the source. A dilapidated old sack of fur with long whiskers and sad eyes. The shape was familiar. I almost knew what this animal was called, but the three letter word evaded me.

I didn't want to pick the thing up. It looked frail enough to keel over at a slight wind, as if touching it would reduce it to sand. Imagine my surprise when the thing stood up, revealing it's legs, and started to walk away.

I feel stranded here without the animal, so I'm going to follow it.

My eyes have started to clear, and with that clarity come questions. There are two doors within my line of sight at all times. One is a closet, in which a stiff uniform hangs from a metal hanger. The other is a door at the end of the room that I have yet gathered the courage to venture out of.

My memories have slowly started to resurface, but they're as foggy and dull as sea glass. I recall a curious color deep below the water's surface, and a hand, maybe mine, trying to reach it. I cannot remember who this light belonged to. I do not know if I felt pain when I touched it. But I'm certain it has something to do with transporting me to this unfamiliar place.

Something urges me to walk out of the other door. I think I'm going to try it.

I'm having a bit of trouble telling the sky from the ground at the moment. Hopefully my vision recovers fully and I can venture further from my room. I can't quite describe what just happened, one moment I was submerged in water, and the next I'm standing dry as a bone in this bedroom. I like the water, I would like to go back. But I can't leave until my head stops spinning and my vision returns. I can see shapes, a bit of color, and enough detail to understand that this is a bedroom, but nothing beyond that. I'm also having trouble standing for long periods of time. I miss the water. I miss the way it draped across my body like a warm, tight hug. I hate that there's nothing here to replicate that feeling. I hate that there's no water. I would like to go back.