I was happy, always swimming along the shore, but one day I woke up to find myself underwater.
Two anchors were tied to my ankles, one on each leg, and my hands were bound painfully together, how I wished I was dead.
It didn't take long for me to sink, only a few seconds, but to drown is a whole other thing- it took what seemed like forever.
My lungs slowly lost all air, and filled up with water that burnt, the more I tried to call for help the quicker and worse it got.
Thrashing was pointless, it's all pointless, there is no actual point.
I was dying here, at a torturous pace, and no one in the world knew it, or cared.
What a horrible, terrible way to realize how pointless one's existence is, all that nothingness above and around me.
I was collapsing inside and out, and none of the people I cared for surrounding me.
They'd never know what changed me, when or how it occurred, and it's a whole other struggle to understand just what life is worth.
And yet, here I am, alive and writing my story, no one saved me, arrived to rescue me, I didn't manage to resurface.
So I guess it was all in my head, and this story is quiet obviously a metaphor.
The End.
The Head apologizes for lack of updates, but like I said we're out of entries. I update whenever we get a new one :)
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