Pool Of Water

Weekly Writing Challenge:

ImageFloating. Peaceful. Silence. Click. These are the events. I’m floating here with the beach behind me and a small tropical island in front of me just staring at it as if it’ll do something and save me somehow but it won’t

Dads home away from home and its meant to be a holiday. Yeah its tropical and beautiful but I’m lonely, theres nobody here. He’s off doing some business or something, I don’t divulge. The water feels cold but the sun is so bright and hot. It’s getting brighter now. It rests at the mid point in the sky. Must be at least 1pm.

I’m so still and my breaths grow slower as I ease into the transition. I close my eyes and take a think. What do I miss. What have I achieved. I think of that girl. The girl from the party that night who stood blankly ignoring everyone. It wasn’t a great party but people seemed to be enjoying themselves as the fireworks exploded in the background. I spoke to her and I don’t know, I thought we hit it off. Maybe we didn’t. But I wish we had. People are only after one thing or another and usually its the other.

I think back to my best friend in high school or that kid I called best friend. He left. As soon as something better came along he couldn’t get away faster “please leave via all fire exits in an emergency to your left and right.” Why, what did I do? If you want to be away that fast then why not just parachute from the plain better yet I’ll parachute and forget the chute?

My mother left. She couldn’t deal with her other halves deals. Pay someone here another guy there, what is this? I don’t know what he did but I do now. Too bad I’m the one who has to suffer, wonder what he’ll think. Will he care? Will he rescue me? I didn’t want any of this.

The water gets thicker and its starting to drag me down. In front of me it starts turning a thick red and I re live the click as it pulls back and bang, the release. Red water.

I don’t know how I got here. I was sitting on the beach sipping my cool cola reading a F.Scott Fitzgerald novel when I felt the need to stand and take in the atmosphere. I loved that island in front even when I was a kid. All I wanted to do was travel out there and explore. Like some adventurer. This one time I tried building a raft, nobody would help me. Just some logs tied together with string but it didn’t make it far. I just wanted to get away.

Click. Bang. That last little visual snapshot of the island. At least I got a good view. Then I get shoved into the water for my final rest. So who will miss me? What will people think? Will anyone even notice? I play these thoughts like a vinyl on a loop as it starts back to the beginning again. Drifting. Getting pulled into the water. I’m gone. This is it.

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