Through the river
I breath in deeply, filling my lungs with the sharp morning air. Freezing river water rushes around my waist, a thousand small hands punching and pushing me downstream. My teacher looks at me from across the river, too far away for me to see their face. The chatter of my teeth joins slushing of the current in a cacophony that, still, cannot drown the roars of the blood gushing in my ears.
I take a second breath, and tighten the grip on my spear until I feel my nails digging deep into my palm. With a shout from deep within my chest I stab the butt of my tool into the riverbed in front of me, clouding the water in my surroundings in a grey murky world. Using the spear as an anchor, I step forward arduously with my only leg. I hear my teacher shouting in the distance, their words swept away by the surrounding(?) noise. I continue my descent, stabbing the earth with my spear, and using it to brave the water one step at a time.
…
The water is higher now, I feel it draining me of my warmth. My shivers are now spasms. I fear my teeth might shatter with each one.
…
The water is now up to my head. It wraps around me violently, possessively. My body is rocked up and down and left and right according to all its whims. The spear barely keeps me from being pulled away into the depth.
I can’t see my teacher anymore.
Water splashes and splatter here, and there, and everywhere in between.
It attacks my eyes with vigor one moment, then leaves me in peace the other. I feel it slithering into my mouth.
My lungs burn.
I cannot breathe, yet I carry on deeper.
Suddenly, my fight feels distant. My body numbs, my senses dull.
I dream. I am a carp soaring upstream. My scales glisters with golden hues, they are blood red. I leap joyously, jumping with my fin.