The water was beautiful, but so were her eyes. The exact hue of blue. He was also quickly realizing rather sadly, they were the exact shade of wicked. Maybe, if he had just looked past the beautiful he would have seen the cold. Maybe…
As his arms were trying (and failing) to keep him afloat, as every single vein in his body was popping and his brain was starved of air – of life, his only wish was to ask her the all important question – WHY?
He was tired.
At this point both body and mind wanted release, every passing second felt like an eternity in hell, and maybe this was hell. Water is life, everyone says. But life was unforgiving. Life was hungry, and life wanted him.
You know that light they talk of? The one you see at the end of it all. Well, he saw that light. A sign of something ‘more’, an afterlife to look forward to. It could also just have been the afternoon sun, shimmering ever so gracefully above the surface of the waters. And even through everything, he thought of his wife, the blue eyed woman who he had loved with all of him. He felt her shadow hovering over him, killing him faster than the water itself. And all he could ask was… why?
Surrendering to his body, to the innate instinct to breath, to the fact that fifteen years of his life was a lie. He opened his mouth to scream and instead the water came in. Strangely it felt good, too good infact. Like an addict to cocaine, he was hooked.
If he had felt heavy before, now he was just part of it. He was free. The more water he gulped the lighter he felt.
And if he couldn’t swim before, now he would just float.
Darkness came, and then a quiet still.