Alone.

There is so much blood. How could someone be capeable of producing this much blood without passing out?

I have no idea.

I see no land. The boats I see are so far away that calling for help would only reduce the minimal amount of energy that I have left. Even so, I’ve tried countless times to call for them.

I am alone.

I knew I should’ve told someone that I was leaving. All it would’ve taken was one text.

“Hey mom. Going out on the jet ski. Be back soon.”

A couple of sentences could have been the reason that people would have come looking for me, but that is not what will happen. It will be days before I receive worried phone calls and texts from my parents and coworkers. This weekend was the beginning of my four day vacation. Everyone will think that I just want some peace and quiet. Nobody will think that I bought an old jet ski, took it too far out, went out without a life vest, and had the damn thing blow up into tiny pieces.

The sun is just about to fall below the watery horizon. I find myself thinking about how pretty it looks. The water is nearly glass. Just a few ripples here and there. That’s something you don’t often see in the middle of nowhere in the Gulf of Mexico, but here we are. My last moments on earth will at least be beautiful to look at before my eyes dip down into the abyss below.

I’m terrified of what lies down there. I know that where I am is a breeding ground for bull sharks. Pretty soon, they’ll find my blood. The throbbing in my right leg feels intense, but I know that my body is still in shock because it should hurt much worse than this.

I try to stay as still and calm as I can. I slowly breathe in and out as I float on my back, only moving my arms and left leg when I absolutely have to. I have to conserve as much energy as possible.

As I float, my right hand makes its way down to my thigh. I inch my way down to where the gash in my leg is. I need to know how severe my wound is.

I find it and I feel…

Bone.

I’m dead. There’s no way that this will be survivable. I am

Dead.

The explosion caught me off guard. I had just bought this jet ski. The guy I bought it from told me the thing “works great for how old it is.”

Ha. Should’ve known that buying a 20 year old jet ski was a bad idea. I should’ve got it inspected before going out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The sun is long gone. Any sign of boats are as well. Only a slight hint of light remains in the sky, but it is quickly extinguishing. Soon, I will have no light. The only things I see in front of me are tiny pieces of my jet ski floating in the water. None of them are big enough to hold me up.

I continue to float as I look up into the sky.

The stars are becoming visible.

Are they real stars, or is my vision becoming starry from the blood loss?

No, those are definitely stars.

I see the Big Dipper first. My eyes make their way around the entirety of the blackness above me. I’ve never seen this many stars in my entire life. It’s beautiful.

As I begin to feel a sense of tranquility about my surroundings, that’s when I feel the first bump.

I know what it is before I see it. Bull shark. It has to be.

The tranquility quickly turns to fear and I can feel my eyes well up with stinging tears.

I try to remain as still as possible, but I know that I only have a couple of minutes left.

Bump.

I feel something tug on my wounded leg, but I don’t feel pain yet.

Bump.

I try to focus on the stars again.

Bump.

I think of my parents and my brother.

I think of how sorry I am to have done this to them.

Bump.

They won’t even have a body to have a funeral for.

Bump.

The bull shark takes a chunk out of my other thigh. This time, I definitely feel it.

I squirm.

Bump.

My last seconds. I can feel the shark begin do drag me down. I look up to see the stars one last time.

How beautiful.