We’ve been stuck in here for days, a week maybe. I’ve lost track. Just the three of us, the rain and the rising tide. Build a house on stilts and expect to need it I guess. The power went out last night, now all we have to occupy us is the sound of the rain; A relentless rooftop tattoo and a constant reminder of our captivity. I tell Christie, this is how cabin fever starts, just to stir her up, but she only shrugs and looks at me with sad wide eyes.

The water is lapping tenderly at the back deck, urged up and down by the whims of the river’s tide. If I lay on my stomach with my arm hanging down, I can press the flat of my palm against its skin. I stay like this for hours. I imagine I can hear it wanting. It needs us.

I can hear Dale and Christie arguing in the kitchen. Its the same argument they always have, only amplified. They call my name for mediation, but its more than that, I know they want a side to be taken. I stay at my post, listening to the impartial lapping of the water. Christie comes out, wielding my name like a blunt instrument, and kicks me sharply in the heel of my foot. We’re running out of food, she says. I tell her not to worry, that at least we have plenty of water. She gives me another kick and storms back into the house. The rain sounds like a thousand whispers and I strain to hear its secrets. I press my palm to the water and listen, but the noise from inside is drowning it’s voice. If only they’d be quiet.

Dale looks relieved to see me back inside at first. I watch his relief turn to shock while I slide the knife into his stomach. Christie starts screaming as Dale hits the ground. I swing around to silence her, but my foot slips in Dale’s mess and I fall forward. My head connects viciously with the kitchen bench and the world turns white for a moment. I can hear Christie running through the house while I pull myself up. I shake my head lightly and listen to her footfalls, there’s nowhere for her to go, the house has become an island. My island. I can hear the rain again, beating restlessly against the roof; marching orders.

I find Christie in the bedroom, she hasn’t even locked the door. She’s crouched in the corner next to the bed, hands over her face, sobbing quietly. I stand over her and she looks up at me with those sad wide eyes, her face wet and her mouth moving. I know there’s meaning there, but the rain is so loud now I can’t hear what she’s saying. Its not important. She scrambles to her feet and tries to push past me. I knock her to the ground and kick the fight out of her. She doesn’t struggle while I tie her up.

The water’s so high now that Dale and Christie are almost submerged before I roll them off the deck. There’s hardly even a splash. I lay back on the deck with my arms out wide and my head lolling off the edge. I can feel the water tousling my hair gently. I think I’m crying, but I cant be sure. I stay like this for hours. The rain feels so warm on my face.