I was swimming in the clear blue water off the Turks and Caicos islands, in the Caribbean. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining golden in the sky. The water was turquoise blue. The fish gliding by me were radiant in their color . . red, orange, green, gold, purple . . blazing in the light. It was amazing.
I swam through the water as through oil, just oozing through the sea, through the light, through the schools of fish. I was happy, ecstatic even.
Something grabbed my ankle. I tried kicking it free but the grip intensified. I looked down and saw the tentacles wrapping around my lower leg. I panicked. I kicked and thrashed in the water. As I did, my breathing intensified. My head moved violently in the water and as it did, my mask came off. As I fought the grasp on my leg, I gasped and water flowed into my mouth and my throat and my lungs. I tried to cough and this only made it worse as my mouth opened and the salty sea water entered my body.
I slowly began to feel relief as my mind scattered and I became calm.
My hands clutched at the light in the sky.
And it was over.