The rope twists and wraps around my skin. It takes me deeper and holds me in place. It is the accomplice to the rich blue water that engulfs me. I see my shock white hands brush against my cold body, groping for the coarse ropes. My bright blond hair twirls around my entire essence. Watching my hair play tag with the water I am somehow more calm and peaceful then I have ever been. Drowning is no longer a worry, no longer a scare. Drowning is an acceptable comfort. Something tells me to fight this comfort but something else sighs and says “Finally…”. Suddenly after a minute or two i hear my friend calling my name. Looking back I realize what happened. She is the reason I’m still alive for I fought for her. I fought to let her have a friend, i fought to preserve innocence, to not damage anyone else, but I did not fight for myself. As the rope finally started to loosen its death grip, I swam for the top and as my head broke the cool water I took a breath. I took a breath and realized what I had done. When I was near death I felt like I could finally breathe and I could finally let go. When I came back up and took that sharp nasty inhale I felt like I was being crushed by all the weight again. That was the day drowning became living and living became drowning, when I wished I was near drowning when I was breathing, dying when living.