Water.
All around me. Everywhere.
In my mouth. In my ears. My eyes. It’s cold, so cold. I don’t know which way is up. It’s so dark.
I need air. I need to move. Left or right? Up or down? My knee hurts. My lungs hurt. Everything hurts. It feels as if there’s water in my leg. It’s everywhere.
The current feels strong. It’s tossing me around like a ragdoll. Was it always this strong? I need to swim. I can’t swim. But I must try.
Swim, Lisa. Swim.
I flail my arms and legs. Which way is land? I can’t see anything. I need air. But there’s just water.
I’m sinking. Down, down, down. Keep swimming, keep swimming. Please, keep trying. Don’t give up. Don’t. Give. Up.
The roaring in my head gets louder. It’s in my eyes and in my ears. In my mouth. It’s the water. It’s roaring. It’s black.
Bubbles in my nose. Bubbles in my eyes. My mouth makes the bubbles. My heart is beating, beating, beating. I can’t hear it. Just feel it. Going so fast it’s going slow. Slower than slow.
Water. Everywhere.
I’m a human waterfall. All I feel is bubbles. Bubbles in, bubbles out. Bubbles in, bubbles out.
Hold me. I’m sinking. I’m slipping away. Slipping. Away.
The bubbles slow. I need air. But it doesn’t matter. I need truth more.
But I am water. Only water.