Beneath the Surface

The boat rocked below me as we huddled together. I could feel the warmth seeping from me. It was dark, and cold, and lonely out here.

A murmur rustled through our group, a message from our captain. Ten minutes and we would reach the shore, where we could slip away into the night.

I watched the waves, counting down the minutes. My heartbeat sounded loud in my ears, and I wondered if the whole world couldn’t hear it. Almost there.

A sudden gust of wind tipped the boat violently, causing our small group to stumble. It felt like it happened in slow motion as they knocked against me. I could feel the sea behind me as I tried to rebalance. Tried, and failed.

The sea was ice as I clawed at it, trying to stay up. Mama had promised we’d learn to swim. Then we'd be safe playing in the tides. I wouldn't get the chance.

The boat couldn't stop for me. They had a deadline. It glided quietly past me as my papa fell to his knees.

My scream was swallowed up by the water, trapped in the bubbles floating to the surface as I slipped below. If only I were as light.

The silence pushed against my ears until they popped, and sound flooded in. Whispers brushed against me. Voices all jumbled together as I tried to swim.

It was when I stopped struggling that I realised I could breathe.

Fear not. We will take care of you. You are our child now. The water felt warmer now.

I turned at another splash nearby. Someone else had fallen in. I reached for them and the sea came with me, pushing them back to safety.