I’ve got another exciting piece. I’ve got a postscript at the end of the story. Be sure to let me know what you think of it!


I am five years old and Mama dropped me off at the pool for my swimming lessons. I am surrounded by water and I sink deeper as the bubbles rise to cover my ears. Above the water, I can hear the muffled sounds of the world around the pool. There’s a lot of screaming going on but it does not faze me. Children can be noisy.

I settle into the warm coziness of the pool. I try to flap my arms and legs but they refuse to move so I stop. I keep my eyes shut and try to recall my alphabets. They keep slipping away when I get to ‘J’ but I don’t stop. I can hear the loud whine of the ambulance going by outside but I don’t care. Today is about swimming and I am here for the enjoyment.

Suddenly, I start to drown. The water rushes into my throat and fills my lungs. I panic and shout ‘Mama’ but I know she can’t hear me under the water.  I try to open my eyes but my eyelids are heavy, as if weighed down by some unseen force. The water swirls around my mouth but its metallic and thick. Then I know.

I am not five years old. I am twenty and in a pool of my blood. I did not see Tade but I felt his knife jab into my belly. The screaming is my voice and the ambulance is for me. I settle deeper into the pool. There is a time to die and that time is now.

POSTSCRIPT: In this story, I tried to get into the head of the victim. There are quite a number of interesting first-hand reports from survivors of near-death experiences and writing this was insightful for a number of reasons. Perhaps the most intriguing reason is the fact that no one ever lives, literally, to tell this story. And we are left to ponder and imagine what goes through people’s heads in their last moments.


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