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The Last Seconds...
I am in the last place that I want to be, and I am afraid.
Cold water slowly moves up my body as Fear sinks her grips squarely into my throat.
The raw, gnawling ache of accumulated dread is now gone, replaced instead with full scale terror.
I am going to die, of that I am now certain.
The water is relentless on its ascent and I hold my breath as its murk passes my chest.
I am no longer thinking of things that will never be, nor of things already gone by.
There is no flashing of my life before my eyes.
Instead, selfish thoughts of the moment dominate my consciousness; thoughts of survival.
My vision is crisp and bright, contrasts are oddly significant, and the vividness of color is near nonsensical.
These images, which strobe through my eyes with beautiful intensity, are the very images that painfully articulate the chaos of my demise.
I try countless things to prevent the inevitable but the cold water continues.
Sunlight is replaced with a pale green, foul tasting fog as my face descends below the surface.
Without a single suitable alternative, I concede to my hellish fate.
I close my eyes and I breathe in.
I survived, exactly like my scuba instructors predicted, and on Sept. 15, 2002, I received my PADI Open Water Diver certification, officially conquering my fear of water.
The first underwater breath is one of those defining trivialities that mark the threshold between
those who do and those who don't; between scuba divers and regular people.
Thanks to Mandy, Jeff, et. al. at Pro Ski and Scuba
and especially to my friends and their "encouragement".
Mark Thomas
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