Cold Water

My foot collapses beneath me. It doesn’t feel like stepping into snow. But there’s a crunch, and, suddenly, my body is dropping. My eyes close, and my heart falters. My arms reach to the sky, but to no avail. The melting world around me disappears. The world is black. The world is silent. My body is limp. Suddenly, life slows down. The talons of death begin to grip every inch of my body. I feel the water seeping into my clothes. It’s all around me, and it’s pulling me down. My eyes open. They look for something. They look for anything. The icy water grabs them, and forces fear into my mind. I desperately search for the light, but the sun’s warm rays are augmented with an icy window. The light shows through the watery prison in a soft shade of blue.
My arms thrash frantically through the cold dark liquid. I try to hold myself together. I feel panic coming into me. It’s bringing me down faster than the water now. My arms are thrashing faster now. Quickly Will, quickly Will. You have to try. I have to try. The water pushes itself against my mouth. My lungs push against my mouth. They are crying, they are screaming like a thousand babies for what they want most; air. My eyes hurt so much. My clothes feel so heavy. They began to latch onto me. Everything is grabbing me. Everything wants me to die. I can’t die. I can’t die. I search for an opening. The water burns every bit of my body. I shut my eyes, slipping back into the darkness. The freezing water hurts them too much. This can’t be the end. I can’t stop here. I push up against the ice. My soaked gloves slide on its surface. I kick, and I kick– I can’t sink. What can I do? What can I do? I can punch. And I punch. I punch harder than I have ever before. I slam my fists against the lakes thick sheet of ice. I hit, but nothing happens.
Suddenly, without warning, my body supercedes my logic. The icy water flows into my mouth. It electrifies my teeth, and clots my throat. My body tries to breathe, but only chokes as the lake travels through me. I push even harder against the ice. I kick even harder. But the thick sheet of imprisonment will not move. And the panic becomes too much to bear. And my hope begins to sink. And I look down. All I see is the darkness. It calls out to me. It reaches up, with its frosty grasp, and it begs for me to fall. I’m scared. I’m so scared. But I look away. I look along the plane of ice. It stretches endlessly in every direction. The water is thick with chunks of frozen debris. The light from above gives the water near the surface an eerie visibility. I turn my head up towards the light, and I see ripples.
There is a chance, I can make it. There is a chance, I will not die. I kick, and I swim. I move my limbs like I’ve never moved them before. I push the weight of my 8 year old body. I push the weight of my soaked winter gear. I push the weight of utter desperation. I push till I am free; and I burst through the water. The sun shines down on me, smiling happily at my freedom. My lungs rise as I gasp for air, but I only breathe in water. Hands reach down and grab my arms. They tug me upwards from the darkness. Are they the hands of God?
My father pulls me up over his back. I euphorically gaze around. The trees in the distance drip with the thaw of spring. The snow, the ice, and all of winter’s frozen tyranny, are dying around me. I bob up and down as my father sprints to land. He drops me onto the slushy, mud filled, snow. I’m choking. He hits my back, and gelid water flies out my mouth. Air bursts into my lungs like a hug from a mother– breathing never felt this good. My dad kneels down to my level, and looks me in the eye. His voice shutters as he scrambles the words:
“Can you breathe??”
I nod my head, only to realize I cant feel anything. I look down at my drenched snow pants to see my legs shaking. I suddenly notice that my whole body is shaking, and I look back at my father.
“You need to get inside”
He spits out, as he swoops me up in his arms, and begins to run to the house. I look up to the cloudless sky and focus my eyes on the sun. I whisper:
“I thought I’d never see you again”