The water envelopes me, covers me all the way till my head. I cannot breathe, I must not breathe. The water will get into my lungs, and it will kill me. I flail my limbs, trying to come up to the surface, but there are ropes tied to my legs, pulling me down, stopping me from taking in oxygen.
I have never learnt to swim, but I try my best to. I cannot scream from help, because that would make me open my mouth, and water would get into my lungs...
I cannot take it anymore. I have to breathe, I need to breathe. I open my mouth.
I am almost unsurprised when the water gushes into my mouth. It tastes salty, like death.
I am falling, falling deeper.
My throat is clogged, a terrible choking feelings taking hold of me. So this is how I die...
Fleetingly, I think of my diary, left in my room, at the place which was once my home. Will someone read it after I am gone? What will they think?
I hear my sister's voice, laughing. "Someday I'll die and then you'll miss me. Won't you?"
My own reply, a refusal to take her seriously, "No, I'll throw a party." Will she throw a party , too, to celebrate my death? That would be nice. I would like people to be happy. Not that people would be sad at my death.
I gulp again, inspite of the searing pain in my chest.
Water fills my mouth and throat, and I close my eyes...
An arm around my waist. Something- someone- is stopping me from falling any further.
It is black, the sea is black, and I cannot see anything, cannot be sure of anything.
I take the person's hand, knowing it will be useless- the ropes around my legs are too strong to overcome. Whoever it is, must be hoping to save me. I must try as much as I can , for this person.
The person drags me up, somehow, to the surface. I gulp, taking in air. Yet, it is only for seconds, and I am pulled down into the darkness again, and my would-be savior tries to hold my waist, but I no longer hold that hand.
The darkness envelopes me, covering me from all sides.
As I succumb , I think of the person who tried to save me, as I close my eyes.
Maybe, some other life... If I ever get to meet this person, I will thank him..or her. A thanks for trying to save a person who was clearly dying. A thanks for caring for a stranger... for me. For someone, who has forgotten what it feels like to be cared for...
My would- be saviour tugs me up to the surface again. The ropes holding me down are hacked away, and I rise up.
My eyes are closed, but I see the person. She looks like an angel. Perhaps I am in heaven after all...
A/N : What do you think?
