Sinking Feeling

I take a deep breath and plunge into the cool water feeling it swirl around me, filling the empty gaps where I am not. Small bubbles fizzle and pop massaging my body, giving me the sensation of swimming in a fizzy drink. 

My arms extend and push outwards taking me deeper in the pool.

After an eternity my fingertips graze the bottom. I criss-cross my legs and let gravity take its course. Anchoring myself to the abrasive concrete.

My hair billows outwards like Medusa’s.

I press a button on my watch. I hear a distorted beep, mangled up by travelling through the water, signalling that the stopwatch has started.

The record for holding your breath underwater is currently twenty four minutes and thirty seven seconds. My goal is to beat that record and make my dad proud of me.

Each day I’ve been coming to the local swimming pool, submerging myself and seeing how long I can hold my breath for. Yesterday was the first time I got above twenty minutes.

I trace my fingers around my eyes, my nose and my mouth, giving my hand something to do while I wait.

Today I had forgotten to do my homework and so I came to the pool later than usual. It was around 5 o’clock which was pretty good because there weren’t that many people around. Most days someone swimming above me would kick me, not knowing I was there.

Maybe I should come later every day.

My lungs start to close up and I can feel that soon I will have to go back up. I never look at my watch before I surface. Otherwise I would give up too soon.

But this time I have a feeling that something incredible is going to happen.

I think about my family. Me, my sister and my dad. Mum died when I was only four. Dad told me that she had passed away on a cruise ship.

The pool is so peaceful now and the usual splashing of people seems to have totally disappeared. I have always preferred the depths of the pool.

Now. I think. I have no more air left in me. My lungs are deflated balloons.

I push off the floor and kick upwards.

Going up is harder than going down, especially because my body is weaker. Any second now until I break the surface.

My head presses into something soft but firm and I cramp up.

My hands push against the thing above me but it stays in place.

I open my eyes and they sting. Tears mix in with the chlorinated cocktail I’m in. Through blurry vision I can make out a spongy looking pool cover. Why did they cover the pool early? Did they not notice me?

My chest burns because of the need for oxygen and my throat starts to close up. I frantically start kicking my legs while pushing the covering.

The sponge covering is soaked up with water making it very heavy.

My watch cracks as it hits the concrete side of the pool. I manage to lift the covering slightly, creating a small space for breathing. I pull my mouth towards it and purse my lips so I can suck in the air. It’s warm and stale. Halfway through inhaling I lose my grip on the slippery covering, and I get pushed downwards. Water surges into my mouth. I choke involuntarily, causing more water to squeeze its way into my lungs. My fingertips are numb and it feels like my brain has stopped working.

I never saw mum’s body after she died. The thought comes to me out of the blue. I laugh not caring about the water entering my lungs. I came later, didn’t I?

My heartbeat slows down, my chest loosens and I feel weightless. My eyelids shut. Finally I can see her again. I think.

The world fades to black as I convulse one last time. Then silence. Hi Mum.

‘There’s something in the water,’ A lifeguard, face illuminated by the bright rays of the morning sun. The covering is being reeled to the side of the pool, preparing it for the day’s work.

‘It’s a boy.’

The lifeguard dives.

A minute later a crowd of people watch the lifeguard give chest compressions to the boy. Five minutes and no result. A loud wailing siren indicates the arrival of an ambulance.

‘What’s that on his hand?’

‘A watch!’

‘It has a timer on it.’

‘But it’s broken, the time isn’t counting.’

‘Maybe he broke it?’

‘The time says thirty-eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.’