Waves crash over me, making me gargle salt water and send a burning current through my nose. My hands are tied behind my back with rope, it cuts into my skin peeling it away and making it turn into an angry raw gash. My feet kick helplessly as I try to keep my head above the current. But I am losing strength, my eyes are begging to close. My brain screaming at me to let myself go, to stop kicking.

Why was I even kicking? Even trying? I did this to myself. I bound my own hands, sent myself to struggle. Sent myself to die.

Will they call it a suicide or an accident? Which one is a better cause of death? I guess suicide is not that admirable to others. Pain isn't either I guess. But not to me. There is a sort of beauty in tragedy I think, you have to have felt things so passionately. You don't kill yourself because you didn't care; you kill yourself because you care too much. I don't believe there's shame in that. Tragic passion is beautiful.

It makes me think of that scene from the movie, Labyrinth. You know the one when the Goblin King is twirling those crystal balls in his hands. I always imagined they each contained a different fantasy that Sarah could live out. And we can imagine different fantasies to make our life go on easier. But what if you can't anymore? What if you start to only see grey in those crystal balls. No one wants to live for dark clouds and rainy skies. I sure don't anyways.

So here I am, engulfed in dark blue water miles off the coast. Not a single boat out on the water today. Slowly I let my head dip under the water as if I'm daring myself to really do this. I keep my eyes open for as long as I can, not minding the salt water burning my eyes. I bet it looks striking my black eyes against the shocking blue depths of the water. There is a special kind of calmness at the heart of the ocean. Time stands still. Time doesn't even seem to exist anymore. No sound, no breathing.

All that I am is in the past. I remember hearing that in a book somewhere I can't remember which one though. I probably have a good five minutes before I die. Sorry to be so blunt but it's the truth. Its also a lie though. I could easily just end all of this by a swift kick of the legs. Burst through the surface and catch my breath. You never know till the moment you're going to do it whether you should really kill yourself or not.

It's never the right thing but… but- I'm having a hard time remembering. I guess your brain shutting down from a lack of oxygen can do that to you.

I can remember my mother vividly even now with my fleeting memory. Her floral cotton sundresses that always flared out at the knees. Her bright infectious smile that could illuminate a room. She had sun kissed blonde hair and pale creamy skin. She was everything I wasn't. I think that's why I started to hate my hate myself so much. What with my wavy brown hair and black eyes I was the complete opposite of her. People always asked ask my real mother if I was adopted. They couldn't believe something so beautiful could create something so dark. The darkness to her light I suppose.

It broke me when she died. And not a clean easy break that people prefer, but a jagged, scarred, messy break that causes a thousand cuts to blister up when you touch the edge of it. She was all I had in the world. I have no father, siblings or even grandparents. It was always just me and her and I liked it that way but I think that was what made her so sad in the end. I wasn't enough. I'm not enough for myself anymore either.

What I’m getting at is that if I die right now no one would notice. No one would come to my cheap ass funeral. That is if I even get a funeral. I don't know how I'm expected to feel about that. Am I supposed to feel lonely? Or depressed?

Something comes into conflict with my foot making me kick my feet helplessly at it to make it go away. I would rather some fish not try to start eating me before I even become a corpse.That's just plain rude.

Damn that kicking took the last of my energy. I'm losing... losing my strength. I can barely move my body anymore. Is this it? The end, already? I know the waves lap miles above my head but I don't hear a sound. Maybe the world has gone quiet above in respect of my death. How magnificent would that be if the world acknowledged your death? Not people but just the earth. If water stood still and the air held its breeze all for you, all for one last moment to give you peace before death grips you.Then the world starts turning again as if nothing ever happened.

My eyes are starting to go blurry from being open under the water for so long. My hands look like brown freckled blobs in front of me. When I look down all I see is nothing but black. Nothing but a bottomless pit.

I'm not-. Suddenly something grabs my waist heaving me upwards. I don’t have the strength to fight so I lie limply. My eyes have fluttered closed as I’m going up, up up up up up. I’m being tugged roughly, awkwardly. My ears are popping proving to be the first thing I've heard in minutes.

Then my head breaks through the surface of the water as if I was just being born from my mother. The ropes loosen their grip from around my hands and float up next to my hair. I gasp in deep breathes, inviting the cool air into my burning lungs. I look around me to see who brought me up. I search helplessly around as I drink in the air like a fine wine. My mother had a bottle of Merlot 86’ from the year I was born that she brought out every year on my birthday. She only ever let herself have one glass. I used to think it was a gift from my father.

I'm still searching when I realize no one's here. How long would it had been if I had stayed under there. A minute, a few seconds maybe? I had come- I had come so close. I'm having- I can't think.

Water fills my lungs drowning them and burning them with salt. I don't see the bright blue sky anymore nor the sun. The ropes still burn into my skin. My body still floats down under the water sinking farther and farther by the second. I open my eyes, my god I didn't realize they had ever been closed. I can't see anything but I know where I am. I never made it, I never tried to. I've only sunk lower. I look up and see the surface of the water, the sun dancing upon it causing streams of light to hit down through the dark depths of the water. It's looks like it's miles above me. If only I could reach-