Mooncake Chilled Throats

My life might have flashed before my eyes if I'd ever had one. It was described to me that a bright light appears to you as you draw closer to death. It would be warm, comforting and you should go to it. But the only light I saw was that reflected from the sun. Was that the light they were talking about? It wasn't as big as I imagined it. No, it was smaller and just out of reach of my tiny palms that clawed at the endless space surrounding me.

And it was cold, not warm.

Death wasn't comforting at all. I didn't feel life slipping through my fingers like grains of sand, nor did fond pictures from my memory come to ease the pain.

Drowning was much kinder.

My body began battling to survive and in it's futile attempts kill me. The water that I'd managed to keep out of my lungs for all of about sixty seconds came pooling in at once. My throat flexed and ached in attempts to expel the salty sea from my lungs but these efforts fell flat as it took the place my next breath should have been. 

I think I died back then. 

My vision, already murky and blurred from the debris of old homes from my village was fading. My body was sinking and my eyes had grown heavy. 

I don't remember much as I made my slow decent from the surface, but I know I lived. By some divine miracle, I had survived. 

But that was all that had been won. Because the moment they separated me from him was the true moment I met death. And he, was cruel.