Suddenly there was water everywhere, above, below, left-right. She saw the swimming pool wall right in front of her and tried to grab it, but it had nothing to hold on to, nothing to help her getting back to the surface. Her lungs panicked. “I can’t breathe!” she wanted to scream in fear, but the water was gripping her so tightly that there was no use in trying. The water probably didn’t know how scared she was, maybe it thought they were just playing together, dancing around, twirling and tumbling, just having fun. It wasn’t the waters fault. She wouldn’t blame it. And then. A Hand. A big, strong hand grabbing her arm and pulling her up, out of the wet abyss and their dance ended as suddenly and unexpectedly as it began.

That was a long time ago. She must have been six years old. The first time she visited a pool. She had not yet experienced water deeper than that in a bathtub, which had always been fun. She didn’t know that water could be so deep. She didn’t know that water could be so scary. The memory ran deep. Water became something to fear not to love.
She didn’t like this fear one bit.

Now she is 16. She is standing in a pool. Again. Much like the one she fell into ten years ago. But this time she is prepared. She is wearing a black suit that hugs her body so tightly that the water can’t even touch her. Her eyes are protected by a big mask. Her back carries a heavy bottle with precious oxygen and a pipe runs from it straight into the mouth piece she has squeezed between her chattering teeth.

The instructor smiles at her. “You can do it,” his eyes seem to say. “I can do it,” she repeats in her head. He starts his descent into the water, holding her hands, softly pulling her with him, with an encouraging nod. She feels strong, she feels brave, she feels scared, she feels excited, she feels safe.

Bending her knees, she too descents into the water. It is moving up her body as to reclaim it. It seems to say “Hello old friend, long time no see.” She takes a deep breath from the tube. The water is touching her chin. “Still time to quit, just get up and leave, no harm done.” The inner voice is ignored, the descent continues, the scary water closes above her head.

Her knees touch the ground. She is under water. She is calm. “I can breathe. I can breathe!” Her mind explodes. “I am under water and I can breathe,” shouts the happiest of voices in her head.

Her body is shaking with excitement, wonder and bliss. Her happiness rises up with the bubbles from her mask to the world outside of this water. The instructor smiles.

“This. This is the moment!” he later said with a tremendous smile in his heart.

Story by Arusha de Rheydt
Image by Arusha de Rheydt
Source images by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay and NASA.