𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 - 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏 𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘌

25 ~ back

Lottie

I couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. The black water seemed to pierce through my skin and go straight to my bones, freezing them. I spun in the water, disoriented. I couldn't tell which way was up or down. I felt my lungs straining – they were about to pop. My lungs would pop, and I would die here in the middle of a small pool in Denver.

My panic caused me to start screaming – silently, of course. All that escaped my mouth were large bubbles. It didn't stop me from inhaling about a gallon of the freezing water, and that was when I started to finally see something. White spots, blinding. I coughed and spluttered but every time I did, more water poured into my mouth.

I kicked and pumped my arms, fighting for my life to get to the surface. The pool couldn't have been that deep, could it? Then, a pale white hand snaked around my waist and began pulling me in the opposite direction – away from what I thought was the surface. I screamed again. Choked, spluttered. I had swallowed the entire pool. I was drowning...

But then something cold hit my face – it was even colder than the water, but it was the best thing I had ever felt, because I knew it was air. I sucked it in, but my lungs wouldn't allow it. I gagged, horrified at the sounds I was making but more at the fact that I still couldn't breathe even though my head was out of the water. It was no use. The white spots were gone. Now it was just black, black, black...

I was throwing up, but it was all just water. Everything was water. I couldn't think – my brain was water. I was so weak that I could barely keep myself upright – my limbs were water. My tears were water. My clothes stuck to my body, uncomfortably damp. They were water. It poured from my mouth, my nose, my eyes, my ears.

Eventually, it all went away. I could see, feel, hear again. I was kneeling with my hands pressed against the concrete. Pebbles were stabbing into my palms. I could sense the others behind me, watching. I could sense their pity. One of them was close to me. He was talking in my ear. What did he say?

Lottie, Lottie.

"Lottie, can you walk?"

I remembered why we were even in the water in the first place – we were trying to escape, and we weren't done yet. I couldn't sit here wasting our time. Trembling, I attempted to get to my feet. The second I was standing, my knees buckled again. Someone caught me before I hit the floor again, but looking down, I saw that it was the same hand that had grabbed me while I was drowning.

I gasped, twisting away from the hand and collapsing anyway.

"Ay Dios mio, hermanos!" Jorge exclaimed from a few feet away. "They are on their way! We will be caught if we don't move soon!"

Ignoring him, I peered up into the face of the pale hand's owner. Dark curls, deep blue eyes. Julian. He looked hurt.

"You were trying to drown me?" I rasped. My voice was hardly audible, and my throat hurt from even trying. Julian's face went from hurt to confused.

"Drown you? Lottie, I was the one who pulled you from the pool. Now can you walk? We really need to go."

I was confused. The pale hand had been pulling me deeper, hadn't it?

"Give the girl a break, she almost died!" Spitfire. He came over to me, bent over, and lifted me effortlessly. Immediately we were moving, and fast.

"It's normal to be disoriented after drowning, don't worry," Spitfire said to me.

"He really wasn't pulling me down?" I spoke softly. He shook his head.

"You were probably confusing your directions. He saved you."