Every person's life has moments that define it, that change it. For some people, these are relatively mundane moments. For others, they almost seem unrealistic. The moment contained in this memoir is the kind of moment that was of the utmost importance, but is now shrugged off. This memoir is about one of my near-death experiences.
When I was about six years old, I went to a lake with my family. My sister and I had each gotten an alligator float, and were floating in the lake beside our mom and our aunt. My sister and I were over our heads, but we were beside adults who were not over their heads so it was alright. Sitting on that smooth piece of plastic, rocking in the water, I knew I didn't want to leave. I looked around, noticing that everyone was enjoying themselves just as much if not more than I was. It was great. As I sat there floating, I let my mind wander. My thoughts flowed from one subject to another, and I just sat on my float, enjoying the ride. I would love to be back in that instant.
Isn't it funny how life throws together pleasure and pain? How one minute you're blissfully ignorant of all evil in the world and the next you're cursing God for putting you here. Not all rude awakenings are exactly that way, as will be shown by this particular event. My rude awakening was more like this: one moment you're perfectly peaceful, enjoying life, and the next you're praying to God that now isn't your time to go. I slipped off of the wet, slippery surface of the inflated alligator's back, directly into the cool water of the lake. I slipped in with a small splash and a gasp of surprise, closing my eyes in a shocked blink the instant I submerged. When my eyes reopened, everything was different. The world had taken on a different hue- that of the lake water. Of course, I did what pretty much any six-year-old would do if they were just dumped into water over their head. I panicked, my only thoughts being to get to the surface of the water as soon as possible. I frightenedly jumped towards the air, and, amazingly, I got a breath! However, this triumph didn't last long. I immediately sank back down, where I jumped again, shooting towards the surface. I got another small gasp of air, then sank back to the bottom, where I continued this cycle. As I continued my fight to breathe, my aunt Darlene just looked at me. I could see her standing up in the water, with a circular float around her waist, just looking at me. My struggle for breath didn't continue for much longer, because my mom charged at me, forcefully pulling me out of the water. I took deep, gasping breaths, happier than ever before that I was alive. In the moments after my rescue, I didn't really think about what happened. But in the following days, I thought about how my aunt just looked at me, not bothering to pick me up out of the water. Rather than fear, the only thing I could feel was anger.
I've never found out why my aunt decided against pulling me out of the water, and I'm not sure I want to know, or that I really care. Some things are better left as unknowns, and if her reason for not helping me was arbitrary, then it could only make things worse.
