Drowning in Madness, Draft One

The following is an English project of an essay from my personal experience. To answer any questions about if this story is true, yes it is, to a certain extent. Some things are a bit over exaggerated, but I really did go through everything on there. Please comment on thoughts and suggestions on this story. It is my first draft, after all, and will be edited. I will highly consider your suggestions and may use them on my next draft, which I will post as soon as I’m done.☻

Drowning in Madness

   I was being strangled and choked until my eyes bulged and my nose filled with jagged stones and sand.  I was being slapped on concrete-like water over and over again until my vision went dark and red spots danced in front of my eyes. I was being pounded into the rough rocks on the shore until I thought I was going to pass out from all the pain. My vision blurred and I became certain I was going to die.

Immobilized from the icy water, I attempted to claw my way to the sweet, delicious air above. I was unsure if I was even going in the right direction. By now, my head was throbbing and my lungs were screaming for air. I decided the only way up was to float so I clutched my rigid, trembling body and hoped I was going to survive.

Suddenly, I started to rise. My heart leapt and I dared to open my eyes to a squint. I gasped and immediately salty water scratched my throat and derived my lungs of the only breath it had to keep me going. I felt a burning urge to breathe, a torturing scream erupting from my whole body and draining the last drop of energy I had. Still, I went higher, the thought of air being my only bridge to consciousness.

Soon I felt a sixth sense; one that was barely out of reach, tell me that I was breaking the surface. I plunged out of the water and welcomed the brilliant light. I gulped in air, breathing deeply in the warm sun. For a moment, everything was just as I imagined it; the sun fingering my face with its golden rays; the clear, fresh, ocean breeze; and the small splashes of rolling waves. I breathed it all in before I heard the roar of angry waves crash down on me, yanking me away from the heavenly senses, dragging me to reality. Despair filled me as I was once again dunked underwater. But this time, the water didn’t give me the freedom to move; it swirled around me, holding me in place while its waves whipped me repeatedly.  It was so anguishing that by the time I was being pulled up again, I was unconscious.

I’m in a vast space that seems to be filled with blue. There is nothing in the room but a moldy old unfinished dragon statue, a lot taller than myself.  Its tail is a stump, cracked with age and it has no texture, as if the artist could not finish it; its skin is smooth stone and provides a faint glow of its own, as if somewhere in the old carving, there is a real dragon, yearning to come out.

   I cannot speak at all though I try. Losing interest in the massive sculpture, I walk around the room. It is a plain one and there are no doors or windows. The intense blueness of this place is scary. I turn around and walk back to the dragon and touch its cold skin. It sends tingles through my arms and I can feel the power in it, moving like electricity. Then I walk around to its broad snout and look into its eyes. This time I shiver; the marble pearls look pleading for life, as if the dragon had been trapped in there for eternity. The dragon looks tortured, like there are thousands of invisible weights on its back and I feel sorry for it. It seems to send out pain in waves and when I step away, I swear the eyes of the beast twitch towards my direction.

I whirl back to look at the room again and wonder when this would end. I f I am stuck here, surely there is a purpose. Suddenly, I hear a roar and there is a blinding flash of light. I turn around to look at the dragon sculpture again, but it isn’t an ordinary statue any more. The mouth of the dragon glows orange then a brilliant golden color, and so does the rest of the dragon, the golden gleam creeping slowly down the dull, grey body. The dragon stretches, flexing each muscle as they start to gleam. The only part that doesn’t change is its intelligent eyes which dart around before settling on me.

“Do not be afraid,” the dragon rumbles. “I am simply here to let you go.” I still cannot speak. It is as though my mouth has gone dry. “You are unconscious dear,” the dragon booms. “I am sorry you had to go through such terrifying pain to see me.” She lies down on the floor and sighs. She looks exhausted.

“Why am I unconscious?” I manage to rasp. The room suspiciously smells of salt. “Because you are cold,” the dragon says gently and sweeps an immense wing around me, scooting me closer, “and because you gave up.” Immediately, I feel warmth seeping into my body which, I realize, was icy cold. “What do I have to do to come out of this dream then?” I ask, my voice suddenly clearing. It is as though the dragon’s kindness is feeding me energy, giving me strength. “Nothing, dear,” soothes the dragon. She swings her enormous head to gently lick my cheek. The spot her tongue touches suddenly feels fresh, like skin on a newborn baby. I suddenly feel tired, the warmth luring me to sleep..“Just look deep into my eyes and swear to me that no matter what, you will never give up on your goal; that no matter what, you will try and try again. All you have to do is nod, dear; all you have to do is nod.”

  “Will I ever see you again?” I plead. I am starting to like the dragon and the simple room. The dragon sweeps me a little closer and her flank is surprisingly warm in the icy place. “Hopefully no, you will not have to see me again. I am only here to those who give up easily. But if you swear and keep your word, you will always remember me. Please dear, please.” Her liquid eyes quivers and I can see a tear slide down her shiny cheeks, turning into a solid crystal before clinking to the floor. I could already hear the gentle swoosh of waves, luring me back to the ocean, and the foaming white of waves. She looks beautiful but tired and sad she has to leave me.

I nod, and she goes rigid, still as death itself. Then she begins to transform into her statue self again, her stump of a tail transposing into its original dull shade of grey, her polished scales smoothing into cold stone.  All that remains of her sleek self is her eyes, two orbs that seemed to droop with the peacefulness of one more weight lifted off her back and look at me with an intensity of love. The roar of waves is louder now, a deafening challenge. But this time I don’t even flinch; I will keep my word to the dragon. I pick up the crystal on the floor. It still shines. Then I close my eyes. “I swear”, I say, my voice strong.

   “Thank you dear,” I hear a soft whisper, quavering with relief.

  “Thank you.”

I wake up to the icy touch of water and begin peddling back to shore, ignoring the hopelessness that is still tugging at my brain. I notice I am still clutching the crystal in a tight grip. Despite the dragging waves, I manage to make it back on shore. When I arrive, my family swarms around me with a staggering amount of questions but I do not tell them about the dragon. I am not ready yet.

The trip to the beach was supposed to be a vacation. After playing in the sand, my mother had scolded me, telling me that I would have to go for a swim in the wild water and wash off all the sand before I could step back in the car. Overall, I learned from the dragon that giving up was nearly another word for dying and that I shouldn’t do that. It was a strange and terrifying experience but if I had not gone through it, I would have not met the dragon and learned the lesson for years to come. Although I do not say it, whenever someone tells me that very lesson I think it’s the Dragon’s lesson. As for the crystal, I still have it, to this day.