My long hair plastered to my face. Every mouthful of oxygen I sucked, strands smothered my mouth. More panic screeched through my veins. The claustrophobia was more than I could bear.
Through the forest of my hair, I had to see behind me. I had to look at Jethro and let him see how much I’d unravelled. I wouldn’t be able to stand another dunk.
I won’t.
Quaking, I looked over my shoulder. My hair tugged, plaiting wetly around my throat as I focused on the banks.
Through drips of water, I vaguely noticed the four Hawk men. All four had their elbows locked, pushing down on the pendulum and gripping hard to the leather handholds.
The strength it took to raise and plummet me into the pond exceeded that of one man.
This debt.
This atrocity had become a family affair.
Jethro, Kestrel, Daniel, and Cut.
Together they played roulette with my life, and in a perfect harmony, they shifted as one and began the rollercoaster all over again.
Their side of the seesaw rose; I dropped.
“No!” I screamed, thrashing in the chair.
But they ignored me.
Faster and faster they dropped me until they disappeared; once again, my aquatic grave welcomed me.
The water’s kiss devoured my feet, my thighs, my breasts...my head.
I sank quicker.
Like I belonged.
The second time was no better.
If anything, it was worse.
My lungs burned.
They felt as if they bled with my submerged screams.
My heartbeat sent ripples of horror through the water cradling me. Sonic sound waves alerted fish that I would soon be easy prey...that I was moments from slipping from this world and into another.
One that hopefully treated me better.
I struggled harder, bruised deeper, and drove myself quicker into madness.
I screamed again, unable to hold in oxygen. Something scaly swam beneath me, tickling my toes. Fronds of water grasses and quick flashes of movement from frogs all sent my mind twirling into darkness.
Images of Loch Ness monsters and sea creatures with wicked sharp teeth stole the remainders of my rationality.
I want to breathe.
I want to live.
I strained for the lighter green of the surface. Crying and pleading and drinking gallons of pond scum in my struggle to stay alive.
Time played a horrible joke on me. It never ended.
