Swimming

I can see my sister’s face through my mask, as I open my eyes to a world of vibrant blue. She smiles as bubbles spew from her nostrils—a human soda fountain, I think. I giggle and release bubbles from my own nose, sliding down deeper and deeper, until my head is far below her paddling feet. I sink even further down, until I feel concrete.

I sprawl out on my back and expel the last few bubbles I have stored up inside. I stare up at the crystalline ceiling of my blue castle. The world on mute for once—I feel free, trapped at the bottom of my own lagoon. Bliss envelops my entire body, until I start to feel pressure in my head and burning in my lungs. I plant my feet on the scratchy floor and spring up and up, until I’m at the surface, crashing through my shimmering ceiling and gulping down the stale August air.

I submerge myself again and again, in hopes that each time I can live for just another second within the walls of my aquatic castle. Eventually, I find that I cannot go back down. Sun-fried and drained, I finally allow myself to float.