A Brush With Death

         I bolted up in bed, gasping rapidly and clawing at my throat.  When only air met my straining fingers, I smiled, a little embarrassed.  So it had only been one of the dreams again.  When would I be able to forget that day?  As I settled back into my pillow, I remembered the reason for all of this.  It had been a few years back, at Girl Scout Camp.  I had gone for a week, and I was eager for the swimming lessons.  Little did I know what would happen that sunny, fateful day.
         At the beach by the camp lake, I ran down the dirt and pine needle covered slope, past the pine-wood benches, past the two story equipment shed, and right back into the water, my hair waving in the wind.  A couple of the girls came over to me, and explained what was going on.  Apparently, they were playing a water game called Stuck in the Mud, which is a variation of tag that can only be played in the water.  When you are tagged in the game, you stand with your legs spread wide, but people usually shout and wave their arms to get attention.  In order to be untagged, somebody has to swim under your legs.
         We’d been playing for a half hour when I saw Helen, a girl from the cabin next to me.  She must have been tagged, because she was flailing her pale arms wildly and shouting, her wet brown hair whirling in the breeze.  She was in deep water, near one of the four docks that marked the corners of the swimming area.  Helen was tall, but I ignored these warnings of my consciousness.  I took a long look at the clear, empty sky and dove down into the clear cool water, taking a deep breath beforehand.  I’ve swum to the bottom of the lake before in shallower waters, I thought.  Why can’t I do it here?
         
The sandy bottom had just brushed my fingers when a shiver ran down my spine. Then with no warning, every muscle in my body began to scream for air. I had to get to the top, fast. Instead of going straight for the surface, as I should have done, I made a split second decision. Using a powerful stroke, I sent myself rocketing through the crystal waters, and through Helen’s legs.
Just when I thought I’d made it, just when I thought my lungs would burst, Helen’s legs went upwards, and a heavy weight slammed onto my back, sending my already pained lungs into a state of near emergency.  Forgetting for a moment where I was, I gasped, and breathed in water.
         Fortunately for me, I managed to break the surface, and spit out enough water to take a quick, shuddering breath.  As soon as my feet touched the sand, I began to stagger toward shore, spitting out every drop of water in my lungs.  As I sat down on the shore, my friend Katy rushed over, her blonde hair sticking wildly out of her cobalt blue swim cap.  “Erica, are you okay?”  I shook my head, watched her shrug and leave, and began to take deep breaths.  Helen, the girl who had sat on me, never came to see if I was okay.  That surprised me. How could you sit on someone when that person is underwater, and not notice or care?
         As I sat there, shivering, terrified thoughts whirled through my mind faster than I could think them. Then a quiet shimmer caught my eye. My eyes were drawn, slowly at first, to a beautiful sight. The sun, shining gold in the sky, reflected on the silver waters of the lake, lending the surface a jewel-like sheen. The various trees and rocks that filled the land around the lake seemed to sway together, as if dancing to an unheard song. Calmed slightly by the sight, I took another breath, and began to ponder how this had happened. I knew my own limitations, so why did I try to breach them? An unnecessary risk had been taken, and this time it had not paid off. I had known that the water where the girl stood was deep. Her height also did not click in my mind. If I had thought about these things before I had gone under, maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here, shaking with terror gone past.
         Right there and then I made a resolution within myself. From now on I would think before I acted. I would, as the famous saying goes, “Look before I leap.”
         With this in mind, I forced a smile onto my face, stood up, and launched myself back into the game. That was another lesson I’d learned, that even when things go bad, sometimes you just have to smile and keep going. I keep that in mind. When I wake up in the morning, a scream forced back in my throat from a nightmare of icy hands around my throat, I take a deep breath, and remember that sunny day on the beach. Sometimes, just sometimes, I can smile, and let the nightmare flow away with the darkness of the fading night.