The beach was a blaze with parasols, hot colours to match the burning sand underfoot. Children were squealing in delight as the tepid water tickled their ankles. Families were eating their mouth-watering picnics, their bags filled to the brim with succulent treats and tasty morsels. Holidaymakers all around were relaxing on soft towels as the sun washed them with warmth and colour. Even the coast guard seemed to be enjoying himself, gazing out to sea like a protecting father making sure that safety was kept at bay.
Everyone was having a lovely time, everyone but me. Why would anyone want to enjoy this hell? I was doubting my decision to let my parents walk all over me and drag me here.
I used to enjoy coming here when I was little, my parents lifting me as the waves soaked my tanned skin. We used to have such lovely memories here, my dad going snap snap snap with the camera, my mum sleeping with her sunhat covering her face, me swimming and building sand castles and my brothers playing sports and racing each other along the beach.
That all changed when the incident happened. My school decided to have a trip to the local pool. That didn’t bother me as I was a keen swimmer. When we got the pool, something didn’t seem right. Pushing my worry to the back of my head, I got changed obediently and waited by the pool side.
Getting into the rippling body of water, we were told to do a couple of lengths of the pool. Doing so, I swam quickly up and down. Suddenly, a seemingly imaginary hand pulled me underneath the water. I flailed my arms, shook my legs and hoped something good would happen. Nothing did though. My entire body was tense, I was falling, falling deep down into the depths of blackness.
A few hours later, I woke up, surrounded by my family. Shook by my traumatic experience, I couldn’t say a word. I didn’t say anything for a week. Then, the nightmares started. Like a cinema in my brain, I couldn’t turn it off. It was a constant replay of my drowning. I would wake up, shivering in my own sweat.
I couldn’t walk past a puddle without getting tingles. I wouldn’t go out in the rain otherwise I would faint with the memories. My life carried on with the constant fear of water.
A seagull overhead snapped me out of my trance. I had made up my mind. I was not going in the water.
Complementing my decision, I wondered what it would be like to go out and swim for the first time in literally years. But no, I had made up my mind, I was just being silly, was I really going to conquer my fear?
Then, something inside of me clicked. I knew I needed to swim. I needed to conquer my fear. I needed to push away all doubts of ever swimming again. I sprinted to the sea and submerged myself in its friendly arms. My fear had vanished.
I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did make sure to let me know below. This story was written to hopefully help you conquer your fears and nothing can stop you from doing what you love. Although this isn’t a true story from my perspective perhaps it is from someone else’s.
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