Stranded

I scream for help. My plea is drowned under tidal roars. I gasp for air, but choke on ice. The ocean pulls me to its depths, calling for me. I resist. I struggle for life. Screaming wastes energy and valuable air, so I fight on in silence.

Icy tendrils wrap around my limbs, chilling them to the bone. I have nowhere to go and no way of getting there.

My splashing slows, my arms flail less, my legs quit kicking and my head falls beneath the surface for a final time.

I am flying. Soaring beneath the depths. I drift lower and lower. My vision blurs and the twinkling rays of light above get fainter as darkness moves in. I have no control of where I go, letting the ocean current lead me blind. It chooses to drag me under, the icy tendrils never letting go. I allow it. All fight has left me. I dare not challenge this beast any longer. It cannot be beaten. Resistance has failed.

My lungs burn. It's the only sensation I have left.
Bubbles cease their flow, no air left to escape my mouth. I can't move a muscle, my body is frozen.

Strangely, I do not feel fear. I feel at peace. I should be terrified, yet I feel relaxed. All my mind can focus on is how beautiful the twinkling lights above look as they slowly fade to black.

The burning ceases, the lights die and my thoughts stop.

The wrathful ocean has welcomed me into its embrace and here I will sleep.