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Water. Air, rising in fragile bubbles, driven to the surface. Peace, quiet, silence. The world above blurred, distorted through the lens of water as she kept her eyes open, watching the distant sky dissolve into liquid abstraction. It would be so easy to let go, to let the water pull her under, to end the pain that gnawed at her mind and soul with each passing moment.
A few bubbles escaped her lips, carrying the last remnants of breath, of life. If they reached the surface and she did not, she would be gone. Erased from the earth, a long memory of someone that might've of been loved. An unfortunate loss, a purposeful mistake.
What if she was drowning, who would plunge into the depths to save her? Who could face the darkness lurking beneath the surface just to pull her back? If she was them, she wouldn't jump, she'd let herself drown, sinking into the embrace of cold waters. Along with the soulless bodies of sailors and victims of the sea's wrath, she'd lay there in peace.
All it takes is a wave, a wave and everything will be whipped from her memory. The fear of the unknown might've of been weaker than the pain inside her. And her green pill was now weaker than both of them.
Julie floated near the shore, her body suspended in the icy water. The chill seeped into her bones, but she stayed there, eyes half-closed, letting the coldness numb the restlessness in her mind.
Her body floating on the shivering waters, soft waves across her body. Underneath, an abyss of the unknown. Farther than the eye can see, the waters were almost black, she didn't know what was hidden under the surface.
That's how she saw people; a surface with en enigma that hid each thought and moment of their lives. And they float in whatever the others see, the surface the choose to show and you never know what one might hide underneath.
The winter swims were her father's idea—his ritual, a test of endurance that he had passed down to her and Carlos.
She opened her eyes, catching sight of her father a few meters away. His strokes were strong, practiced— every movement a testament to the years he had spent embracing this cold, unforgiving element. Carlos was nearby, splashing with a mix of determination and playfulness, trying to mimic their father's steady rhythm.
"Julie, come on! Race you to the buoy!" Carlos's voice cut through the silence, breaking her from her reverie.
She hesitated, her gaze lingering on the buoy in the distance. A part of her wanted to dive under, to let the water pull her down where everything was quiet, where she could be alone with her thoughts. But another part, the part that remembered her father's guiding hand and Carlos's unyielding energy, nudged her back to the surface.
"Not today, Carlos," she called back, her voice softer than she intended. "You go ahead."
Carlos didn't need to be told twice. With a laugh, he surged forward, cutting through the water in a burst of youthful vigor. Her father, catching sight of her hesitation, paused and swam over, his expression a mix of concern and quiet understanding.
