The cold, salty water hits my lungs, and I finally admit to myself that I'm drowning. My last breath explodes into a hundred watery bubbles. They escape toward the surface, leaving me behind. I kick even harder but I'm not going anywhere.
A strong current runs it's fingers through my hair, then pushes me deeper into the shaded kelp forest. The weeds close in above me, shutting out the light. My hands move desperately through the silky vines. I'm only six feet under, but the tangled seaweed wraps gently around my neck and arms, trapping me.
Come on Liam. You can figure this out. I tell myself.
My lungs prickle with a million tiny bursts of pain. I don't have much time, my muscles are already admitting defeat. The conch shell slips in my hands so I tuck it under my arm like a football. If I had known what this murky piece of junk would cost me, I wouldn't have dove to pick it up. A conch might be an unusual find for Shaw's Cove, but it's a stupid thing to die for.
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As it dims, I catch sight of one last color- a mixture of jade and midnight blue. It's a color that doesn't exist in the real world. It's what I see when I'm about to die.
The unwelcome haze trails toward me, slowly growing more focused and intense. A light flickers from deep inside it, like a blue flame pulsing through its surface. It invites me to run my fingers through its surface. If I could move, I'd try to swipe the temptation of death
Oh dear! I can't believe what I just did, it was so hilarious, I hope
In the passage from the play “Saint Joan,” George Bernard Shaw utilizes a variety of rhetorical strategies in developing the Inquisitor’s powerful speech, aiming to convince the church court of Joan’s guilt for spreading heresy.
The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
I smiled to myself and decided that I would go join in. With that, I took a huge deep breath and jumped into the salty water. The water was cool and refreshing; I felt it slide through my hair making it sway in the water. I swam deeper and deeper into the deep blue water. Sunlight streamed through it, lighting up the water around me turning it to gold. I kicked harder and I felt my muscles surge with strength and I pushed further. My lunges began to burn for the need of oxygen, but I refused to go up. I repeatedly told myself just a little bit longer. Until I was unable to proceed anymore without more air in my lungs, I swam to the top of the water taking a huge breaths, filling my lungs with air. I could then taste the salty water as it ran down my face and dripped over my lips. Just then I thought, I will never forget this moment, this place, or the experiences I felt while visiting
When a person is back home, they always have something to rely on. The boys from England crash in a plane on an uninhabited island while all the adults are killed in the crash. The boys might not know it, but they are searching for something to “call home” and to get them through this stop along each on of their journeys. The conch is an important key aspect to the story. While back home in England, the conch is rare and worth a great deal of money, but in on the island, it is worth hope. The conch gives the boys something to worship or idealize basically, but it holds a dangerous and dark power over ...
My feet make a deep, loud, knocking sound as I slowly walk up the wooden stairs, slick with water. The lifeguard on duty hands me a blue life jacket and I slip it over my black and teal bathing suit.
There are an estimated 8,000 deaths per year in the United States from drowning. Near-drowning occurs anywhere from 2-20 times more frequently (for estimated 16,000-160,000 events per year)7. The definitions for drowning and near-drowning have for the longest time been very confusing to understand. Recent health officials have attempted to resolve some of this confusion by redefining drowning as “the process of experiencing respiratory insufficiency or difficulty following a submersion or immersion in a body of liquid.” Near-drowning has also been redefined as “survival from a drowning event which involved impaired consciousness or water inhalation for 24 hours or more”2. Both near drowning and near-drowning occur when someone experiences a submersion event. A submersion event is when someone, in this case a pediatric patient, experiences an unexpected submersion in water. When an unexpected submersion, regardless of water type (salt or fresh) occurs, the individual experiences breath hold, panic, and a struggle to resurface1. Humans, naturally, can only hold their breath for a short period of time. This prolonged breath hold results in hypoxia and eventually leads to involuntary gasping. As the individual attempts to gasp for air they sometimes aspirate7. This paper will attempt to look at the clinical presentation of a near-drowning patient who has suffered from a submersion event.
Immediately, I angled my position and went for a dead sprint toward the water. I jumped off the cliff. I never felt anything like it; the trajectory had me flying through the air for longer than I expected. A surge of adrenaline pulsed through my body, bringing a new sense of life to me. The scorching heat went away as gravity pulled my body toward the water, bringing me a pleasant breeze through my fall. Then, I finally hit the water. I didn’t stick a solid landing, as I went head first into the water. I panicked and opened my eyes under the murky water, only to see nothing but dirt and sediments float around me. I kept sinking and saw a monstrous fish swim right in front of my face. At that very moment, my body went into overdrive, and I managed to project myself back up to the surface.
My sweat soaked shirt was clinging to my throbbing sunburn, and the salty droplets scalded my tender skin. “I need this water,” I reminded myself when my head started to fill with terrifying thoughts of me passing out on this ledge. I had never been so relieved to see this glistening, blissful water. As inviting as the water looked, the heat wasn't the only thing making my head spin anymore. Not only was the drop a horrifying thought, but I could see the rocks through the surface of the water and couldn't push aside the repeating notion of my body bouncing off them when I hit the bottom. I needed to make the decision to jump, and fast. Standing at the top of the cliff, it was as if I could reach out and poke the searing sun. Sweat dripped from my forehead, down my nose, and on its way to my dry, cracked lips which I licked to find a salty droplet. My shirt, soaked with perspiration, was now on the ground as I debated my
The voices in my head become a swelling crescendo. I forcefully grab my head in between my hands as the words echo through my skull. Pain pulsates with every word. I squeeze my temples hard with my palms but the pain is unbearable. Clawing at my face, a scream rips through me; sapping every last drop of energy in my body. Like a rag doll, I collapse onto the cold concrete floor as a growing darkness overcomes me.
No food and only small bits of water from streams and dirty puddles. I am struggling with every movement, surviving is all I can think about. I find that I have resorted to crawling. My stomach is caved in and my pelvis bone is showing. My spine is protruding from my back. Blisters cover my hands and knees, from crawling on the rough rock. I am a sight. A few nights ago I was attacked by a wild pack of dog-like creatures that came in the night, snarling and growling, with their sharp, yellow teeth. They prayed on me like food. I am weak and barely fought them off. The worse part is there is a trail of ugliness behind me. My poison is spreading, I am a
A shrill cry echoed in the mist. I ducked, looking for a sign of movement. The heavy fog and cold storm provided nothing but a blanket, smothering all sight and creating a humid atmosphere. The freezing air continued to whip at my face, relentless and powerful. Our boat, stuck in the boggy water. Again a cry called. Somewhere out there was someone, or something.
I am drowning. The water is finally done with me. The extreme cold temperature bleeds all the energy from my body and my muscles hung- limp in uselessness. With superhuman effort, I struggled to keep myself above the surface. The ocean oblivious to my predicament continued to spin me around and force me to plunge deeper and deeper under the water. Even when I manage to catch my breath in the few terrifying seconds I miraculously push my head into the air, I barely get a lungful before I am sucked under again. The current is too strong. The waves mock my fruitless attempt to salvage myself from a despondent situation by slapping me with more waves. And suddenly.. It all stopped. The fierce gust and deadly waves died down. Could it be the sea
You almost drowned to death. You can’t just be running around after something like that.”
Just as I get a breath, the powerful monster swallows me once more. It finally hits me that I’m going to be under a long time. These are 20 ft waves, I think to myself. There is no way I am getting out of here the easy way. I feel the blood surge to my head as the paranoia sets in.