My aunt told me this story when I was at Gran’s house.
She said, “There was this woman at the center. We were talking, and she said she always felt like she was drowning, no air left, so, one night, when her fifteen-year-old son was at some party, she went into the bathtub and closed her eyes and swallowed some pills and drowned. Well, to an extent. Seems like no one can get away with any release these days, huh? I found the whole story quite chilling, frightening.”
I didn’t tell her what I found.
Because the thing is, I’m not scared of drowning.
I’m scared of what will sink me.
