This Place We Call Home (discontinued)

Chapter 5

Take it in to my perspective, and picture your friend-that-is-a-boy (not boyfriend yet) has just fallen from a cliff into the ocean. It would have been very convenient to know that Miguel could not swim before I ran all around trying to get help. If I knew that little piece of information, I would have obviously jumped right in the water to save him, but he decided to state that he couldn't swim right before he almost drowned. Nice work telling me, Miguel. 

I had never saved anyone from drowning before, so I had NO IDEA what in the world I was going to do. Do you just jump right in? Or do you try to get help first? But, as you have already read, no one cared about saving Miguel, which I thought was very odd.

And what in the world happened to me and the mayor. Does he even have a name? People just call him the mayor; why not call him by his name? So many questions. And what was with that evil grin. He seemed like some evil scientist. What was him problem?

Now, you’re probably sick of me asking questions, and I bet this is torture to you for me leaving you at that cliff hanger. Will Miguel drown? Will I save him? Only I know the answer......

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The cold ocean water submerged me as I threw myself in the water. He can't swim, he really can't swim. I thought, swimming farther out. Swimming was a second nature to me; I have been swimming since I was 5. Waves crashed over me right as I try to take a gulp of air. Instead, I got a gulp of water. Spitting out the water, I keep treading, despise my aching legs and sore arms. The bottom of the water was rocky, just enough to cut my toes. Just adding to the pain, here. I thought. In the distance, Miguel was bobbing up and down, trying to get some air.

I was very surprised on how long he was surviving. He didn't scream, knowing in would only tire him more. He had been treading water longer than most people could, if you could call it a tread. More of a flailing-your-arms-to-get-attention kind of thing that was helping him barely stay upright in the water. Sometimes he would go under, and I would hold my breath as I waited for him to come back up.

But then he didn't. I watched in horror as a huge wave toppled over his head. I was so close, I could almost touch him. He was reaching to grab my hand, his arm shaking from being so tired. Then the wave came, and I saw him flipped under, it completely turning him upside down, and he didn't come up. I knew he couldn't last much longer- it was a miracle he was still alive. His body gave out, I knew that even I would give out over the tiredness soon, too. The water would consume you, wrap around you, make you tired until you can barely breathe, then it takes you. It makes you weak; it waits for the moment to strike. The water was cruel. It leaves no mercy.

My mind in panic, I knew he must have passed out. I tried to find him as I lunged under the water. But it was too muggy. All I could see was darkness. And mud.

I could never give up. My body was turning numb, wave after wave consuming my energy bit by bit. I lunged under until I scrapped my hands on the rocks, and I searched everywhere I could. The waves could have taken him anywhere, he could be anywhere. I tried up shore, my eyes burning from trying to keep them open underwater. My lungs burned, but I refused to go up for air. Down and down I swam, until my head hit the sandy bottom- hard.

That’s when everything went fuzzy. I couldn’t tell which way was up or down.  Kicking my legs, I tried to swim up towards the surface. I wasn’t going anywhere; I stayed just tumbling in the ocean like a pebble. My sense of direction was gone, and I knew that I was going to drown.

The life was being sucked out of me. So this is what it’s like to die. Everything feels far away, like a dream. My chin banged the bottom of the ocean once again. Finally, my sense was coming back to me. I was swimming down!