Creative Writing – “Drowning”


Kelsey Morales | Journalism Club

March 18, 2015


I thought it was over.

I thought I was safe.

But it’s happening.


Is my mind warped by fear and paranoia—

A once beautiful place now soured by worry

A once holy place turned dark and left in ruins,

With the shadows of my own regrets its only inhabitants

Can I still trust this new part of me,

Terrifying as it may be?

Again, I’m prey waiting for its predator to attack,

So that I can finally flee.

Because they tell me that I can’t move,

That I can’t run,

Until he finally has his claws at my throat.

Six months.

Six months of feeling his eyes burning into mine,

Searing into my back as I walk away,

My hands trembling

My stomach in knots

My heart a drum with an unsteady, hectic, beat

My lungs constricting.


I grow tired,

But I keep trying.

I kick.

I scream.

But they won’t listen.

For some strange reason,

They choose not to believe that I’m drowning.

I don’t understand.

But I will make them hear me,

I will not be ignored,

I refuse to let their disbelief pull me down

further and further

under the black water.

But a part of me knows,

and has known all along,

that they’re going to wait

and wait

and wait

until the bubbles that dance along the water’s surface

cease above me.

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