I was 14 when I died. ​ I was on holiday in Cornwall with my family. It was about 2pm, the soft English sun perfectly warming the sand under my toes as I played. The beach I was at was known for it's waves, neither too high nor too small, the bay like area allowing for a stretch of sea perfect for body-boarding. I was enjoying myself, I'd swim out until I was just nearly out of my depth, then kick as hard as I could as I was picked up by a wave, gliding in on it right until it ebbed away into the shallows.   As I was making my way out once more, I could already could tell it was going to be a big one. The smooth bump of water, way out to sea was coming in quickly, building upon itself with each passing second. The hit of adrenaline was more than enough to override my brain's safety centre. I easily pushed past my usual launch point greet the ever-growing wall of blue. Turning around to face the beach, I looked over my shoulder to time myself perfectly, only to see an all-encompassing shield of water as it loomed over me, a giants foot to an ant. ​ I kicked as hard as I could for maybe a second before it smashed into me. I was ripped from the board, and I felt the safety line on my wrist snap as though it were nothing. I span in the wave, trying to kick up, although I had no idea which was up or down. I surfaced after a few seconds, the wave punching the air right out of my lungs. In the frothy white I opened my mouth to gasp for air, and I got maybe a a quarter of a breath in before the next wave came, shutting off my air and flooding my lungs with the cool brine. ​ This cycle continued. I'd kick up. I'd surface. I'd try to breath. And the next wave would come in and throw me like a rag-doll. For what felt like hours this trapped me, constantly growing weaker and weaker. However, eventually all things must end, dawn to dusk, ash to dust. As screamed at my body to kick upwards, I could already feel the water swell with the next wave, and I just closed my eyes. ​ I felt my head hit something and I opened my eyes. The white rapids of the surface were gone. The constant struggle to fight the swirling currents were gone as well. I was on my back on the ocean floor, blanketed in the inky green-blue. Up above I could see the waves furiously beating down, crashing in on themselves in an attempt to reach me, to claim me as their own.  ​ I was only a about 5 feet down. If I stood up I would be able to push my head back into the fray, continue to fight against the sea, however, I couldn't. My oxygen tanks were empty, my lungs full of water, shoving me to cough, an action I could not complete. My body was screaming at me to breath, and as it yelled, my mind grew used to it. The cries faded into pitiful background noise as a calm seeped into my skin with the ocean's chill. This was it. This was where it was going to end.  ​ I gave up. I relaxed my mind and let instinct take over. I coughed, pushing out a little of the water in my lungs, before I gasped. I felt it as it surged down my throat and into my lungs, stretching to fill the vacuum it had created. The peculiar feeling as my lungs stopped screaming to breath, and instead wretched at the disgusting taste, trying to expel it. My whole body slumped as my vision darkened. The signals from my muscles fading into static as the lights blinked off. ​ My body began to drift. Floating along the sea floor in the slight currents, I began to slide down the shallow slope leading into the void of the ocean depths. For an eternity I drifted. Unaware of time passing, no thoughts, no focus, only the emptiness. As the millennia ground on, the surface light faded, leaving me truly alone in the inky depths.  ​ Something jolted me into awareness. I could not move, I could not think, but something had changed, a presence. Gently as if one was to pick up a butterfly, I felt the icy fingers wrap around my body, long and thin, starting at my spine, and curling round my torso back to itself, it's thumb resting behind my head, a cool pillow for my endless slumber. It pulled gently, and I was turned to face it. The huge black eyes reached into my decaying soul and spoke to me, its lip-less mouth not moving an inch.  ​ "Is this how you want it to end?" I felt my brain warm as the gears began to turn, rusted with age and neglect, shedding the sand they had been buried in. ​ "No." ​ "What will you give to return?" "Anything." ​ It nodded, it's head so large it practically shook the world as lights began to shimmer along its frame. Miles upon miles of lights, twisting and twirling into the night as it raised its other hand to my chest. A long, jagged fingernail began to brush my chest above my heart as it pressed forward. ​ Searing pain shot across my abandoned nervous system as it broke the skin. I opened my mouth in a noiseless scream, water pushing out as my chest contracted for the first time in an eternity. My blood boiled through my veins as my heart groaned into life, the forgotten ticking of life being forced back into me through the unnatural forces of what I met in those depths. ​ I was on the beach. The sun-soaked sand leeching the oceans chill from me. My dad had pulled me from the waves after I went under, placing me on the sand and pushing my chest. I coughed, the action that had once bought me death now bought life as water left my mouth. People stepped back as I rolled over and vomited out the contents of my brine-filled stomach. I lifted my head and through the various legs I could just see the Sea, empty of people once more, an endless abyss. ​ I never set foot in the sea again after that. I told my story of course, but it was mostly laughed off. My friends poking fun at my over-active imagination. I laughed with them, and over time I stopped believing in it. A mere near-death dream.  ​ I was reminded a few days ago. Lazily waking up in the afternoon after a long night drinking, the soft English sun warming our sheets, my wife asked about the scar on my chest. Looking down I could see it, faded as though it had been there forever. A clear, curved scar raked my chest, just above my heart. ​ All dept must be payed back some day. But just how much do I owe? Original author: OpaqueSofie

Story is told by K3star

Jess hazel

Great writing!


You make such good stories.


Love it.

Gacha Spooky

Creepy! ?