Gasping for Air
By Rosalie U
The eerie whistles of the cold sea breeze as you step into the jungle of unknown
and the howls from beneath the surface.
Tangles of emerald green weeds and vines clutching onto my feet, holding you back.
A warning.
The long, silent pathway has nothing but the crunches of crabs and the breaking of sticks.
The roars get louder, louder, louder.
I approach him,
the enormous, gaping mouth spits its saliva.
Its throat filled with salt, gasping for air.
Trying to breathe. As the salt overthrows the fresh water,
he is consumed.
A monster was made perhaps?
I pity him.
His cries of struggle and the fight for breath, a never-ending cycle.
He’s drowning.
The colossal mouth, trying to shut closed as its sharp, pointed teeth surround him.
Walking towards him, creeping into his mouth, I scrape my feet.
It’s cold.
Goosebumps crawl across my skin.
As he roars loudly and breathes heavily, I am sucked in,
but he doesn’t swallow me.
He is not a monster but a struggling soul fighting for breath.
I am sorry.