A/N: Alright. This one was slightly confusing. Even I didn't get it.

Prompt #19: 7/27/17

479 words, according to Google docs.

He was drowning - drowning in a sea of screaming bodies, waves of blood, and hours upon hours of regret. Tumbling head over heels, he reached out blindly - hands crashing into the painful memories that would not go away. Thrusting his wounded arm to his chest, he tried to avoid them as much as he could, but they just kept coming, sneering at him with their hateful eyes and laughing in that high pitched laughter that always frightened him. Closing his eyes made no difference at all, either - he could see them no matter what.

Which way is the surface? he wondered, nearly blinded by hazy panic as his mind tried to sort everything into their respective bins - Father, you go into that one. No, that one. Please, just go! NO - you've got them all mixed up - stop ruining the order! His mind was a whirlwind of confusing thoughts, emotions, and ideas, and try as he might, he could not use Dumbledore's clever system of bins and lids to hide them away.

Red. He could see the color, shining brightly momentarily among the raw echoes of despair and pain before it disappeared again - are you drowning, like me? He tried to reach out to the color but only managed to bump into another memory buried deep in his mind - and it was gone. NO! Please don't go and leave me all alone! Come back!

He crashed into something hard and was tossed in the other direction - a helpless pawn in the roaring waters that was his mind. He needed something to anchor onto - something familiar. But he was choking now, the stench of rot and decay overwhelming his senses and bile filling his mouth. He needed air.

Red? He saw it again. The color seemed to rejuvenate him, sending energy coursing through his veins. He had to get to it. Casting aside memories in his hasty search, he plunged his hands into the chaotic depths and encountered something soft, pliant, and yet incredibly firm and comforting. Red.

"Ginny?" he whispered. He couldn't see anymore - his senses were too saturated to do so - but he could feel her, warm and solid. He pulled himself towards her and wrapped his body around hers, burying his nose in her red, red hair.

Suddenly, he felt himself rising, fighting against the onslaught of battering emotions and thoughts. He tucked Ginny closer to him, gripping onto her with all his strength as he struggled to open his eyes. And then they resurfaced, both gasping and clinging onto each other for dear life.

"Ginny?" He spoke for real this time, shaking his plastered hair from his forehead and desperately feeling his companion for a pulse, a breath, anything. Her eyes slowly opened - clear hazel sparkling in the dark water. They were wondering, filled with pain and suffering, but awed just the same.

"Draco?"

He was safe.