Drown

Lungs

As my car sinks deeper into the murky depths of the lake, I feel the weight of panic and desperation pressing down on me, crushing my lungs and leaving me gasping for air. The eerie familiarity of this suffocating situation strikes a chord within me, stirring up memories of a similar feeling long ago.

With each passing second, my pleas for help escape my lips but are swallowed by the surrounding waters, reduced to mere bubbles surfacing in a silent symphony. Frantically, I twist my head in all directions, searching for any glimmer of hope or a sign of an exit from this watery trap. The confined space of the submerged vehicle taunts me, threatening to steal what little air I have left.

Floating in front of me, a haunting display of my personal belongings serves as a painful reminder of the life I may lose if I can't find a way out. Determined, I begin a relentless assault on the driver's window with my fist, hoping that each strike will break the tempered glass barrier that stands between me and survival. The sound of my knuckles cracking against the unyielding surface echoes through the drowning car, serving as a painful reminder of my desperate situation.

As the weight of impending doom presses down on me, desperation overwhelms me to the point where I resort to scratching at the glass, hoping to find a weak point that will give way. My efforts, however, are met with futility as the window remains steadfast, denying me the escape I so desperately seek.

The once crystal-clear waters that suspended me in a world of calm have now transformed into a suffocating abyss, where emptiness reigns and the ability to distinguish anything around me fades into a hazy blur. The crushing pressure on my chest intensifies, amplifying the terrifying reality that I am drowning within the confines of a sinking car, descending deeper into the frigid depths of the lake.

In the midst of this desperate struggle, my pleas for help become more fervent as I come face to face with the realization that I do not want to meet my demise in such a tragic, isolated manner. The urgency in my voice is intertwined with a plea for someone, anyone, to lend a hand and pull me from the clutches of this watery grave.

Each passing moment inches me closer to the threshold of surrender, but a flicker of hope keeps me fighting against the odds. Every fibre of my being yearns for a hero to emerge, to rescue me from the drowning car that threatens to consume me. So, I cry out, hoping that my voice will reach an empathetic ear willing to dive into the murky depths and pull me back into the realm of safety and life.