Peace

It was summer. It was hot. We did, what we always do, when it is summer. And hot. We were kids, living in a small town, with not much to do. We were the ones, that were left over. The ones, whose parents could not afford to take us on a trip to the rest of the world. The ones, who did not know what it felt like, to sit in an airplane for hours, only to spend a week or two in a country, where everything seemed foreign. We were the ones that stayed home.

We had taken off early that morning, bathing suits, mats and towels packed on our bikes. It felt good to ride with them. Even if it was the outcasts. The ones that belonged together, because they did not belong. To go have fun and just be. Be a kid. Away from home. Away from having to be quiet, so not to wake my father, who had been working through the night. Or not to wake my little sister, who was eight years younger than me, and the princess of the family. Not to disturb my mother, who was busy cleaning the house and getting over my father's latest girlfriend. Away from my older sister, who was getting it on with her boyfriend in the bunk bed underneath mine. Away from my grandfather, whose idea of a good time with his granddaughters were different from those of most good grandparents.

The public pool was filling fast with stressed parents of small, fussing children, angsty teenagers and sunburned old couples. We hurried to get a fair amount of space to call our own for the day, laying down our mats and towels, before heading out to get dressed.

Most of the day was spent lounging on our towels, talking and eating the snacks we brought, before heading over to the water and cooling down. Mary sat next to me, finishing her soda. I never really liked her. She always made sure, I felt like the third wheel, a nuisance. Her long blond hair reflected the sunlight, as she bent over, staring at me with those cold, blue eyes of hers: "Come on," she urged, grabbing my arm with her hand, lifting me of my towel, "the others are all in the water, this is boring!" Reluctantly I got up to follow her. The others were all in the water. In the big pool. The deep one. That sucked for me, since I was the only one, that had not learned how to swim. My dad was a good swimmer, but never bothered to share his knowledge with his daughters. So I was doomed to sit on the uncomfortable tile floor next to the pool, with my feet dangling in the water, while everyone else went swimming and chatting.

I could feel the cold, uneven tiles pushing into my flesh as I heard Mary mocking me: "Really? I don't believe you! Everybody knows how to swim!" She dove, only to surface right next to where I was sitting, and pulled herself out of the pool. Dripping wet, she sat down, putting her arm around me. The water from her body started running down my back. It tickled and made me feel uneasy at the same time. The tingling sensation of the fine hairs on my neck and my back reacting to the touch was unnerving. I did not like the way she felt. I did not like the words coming out of her mouth, the tone of her voice. Confident and condescending. I did not trust her. As I was listening to that voice, staring down onto the ripples on the water, watching the lines of the pool get distorted, moving, I felt the pressure of her hand on my back. Something felt wrong.

"Get in!"

Her voice. Firm. Mean?

A short moment of loss of gravity. Was I flying? Falling. I was falling. Face first. Did she just push me in the water?? God, I hated her!

My eyes, my nose made contact. Water rushing in to my nose, my lips pressed tight. A reflex. My eyes closed. Another reflex. The chloride burning my nostrils. My brain, my lungs screaming: "Take a breath!" Did I hear the others kids? I heard them. Were they laughing??

With arms flailing around, randomly thrashing in search of a hold, where there was none, and my legs kicking, I realized: This was the big pool. The deep one. There was no floor beneath my feet to hold me. Nothing to stop me from going down further. I could feel the fast beats of my heart, pulsating through my entire body. Every inch, every tip, every bend. "Up!" I needed to go up. There was water above me now, next to me, below me. I could feel the cold on my scalp. I had lost all sense of where I was. Was I even still right side up? Which way was up?

My eyes - I needed to open my eyes! I needed to see. My brain, my lungs, still screaming: "Take a fucking breath!!" The gigantic pit in my stomach, that was growing by the second, seemed to weigh me down, drawing me further towards the bottom of the pool. I could not think. "Open your eyes!!" It felt like I could actually hear my own voice scream at me in my head.

It burned. I saw light, for a brief moment, I was aware of up and down. I was still going down. Nothing I was doing with my arms or legs got me back up. How the hell does this work? A muffled sound drew my attention to the shadowy figure moving slowly towards me.

My arms, my legs, tired, let the draft of the water do the movement for them. I felt my body still going down. How deep was this pool?

My lungs were burning now, my entire chest seemed to be imploding. The pressure to take a deep breath was overwhelming. But my heart stopped racing. The pit in my stomach dissolved.

I was floating. Surrounded by water, touched by water on every pore of my skin. The glare of the sun, dancing on this body with the movement of the water, broken sun rays. Dancing and caressing my body. Kissing my skin, playing with my hair. Relief, as the sensation of my exhalation washed over me. I was empty. I was silent. I was away. Truly away from all that, that weighed me down before. This was it. I would be free. I was able to go. To let go.

Basking in the peace, the full peace, I silently watched the shadow come closer. I did not resist.