The dangerous attraction of water

My feet touched the ice-cold, blue water, and a shiver ran through my entire body. Gently, I ran my right foot along the edge of the pool, and I could feel every pore on the bottom of my foot. I took a few deep breaths and jumped headfirst into my happy place. A feeling of utter bliss washed over me, and I could not help but smile widely. Diving into the pool is like entering another world for me. A world without dependencies, responsibility, or negative feelings.

I dived a couple of meters until I took my first powerful strokes. The noise around me faded, and all I perceived was how at peace my body felt. Also, I noticed the texture of the water, pleasantly soft yet full of resistance. Taking a couple more strokes, I reached the other side of the pool, turned, and flipped on my back. A few strokes later, water splashed over my face, coming from the lane next to me. A giggle ran through my body. I deeply loved the water and the water loved me. In his own unique, stormy way. After a few coughs, I could breathe normally again. I looked up into the cloudless blue sky above me. The morning fog had lifted, and it promised to be a beautiful day in San Francisco.

I felt free in the water, freer than a flying bird could ever be. It made me feel like I was floating, at the same time, it radiated an immense power. A force that was mighty, so mighty that I could be buried underneath, completely absorbed. But we were a union, the water and I. We longed for each other, like two magnetic poles who attracted each other, and sometimes – just sometimes – repel each other. In those moments when a dive failed, and I swallowed water. In those moments when I turned too early and gasped for air. And in those moments when the swimmer in the next lane had more strength to create a wave than I did. But on most days, including today, we were one. The water and I.

Being in the pool meant feeling safe and warm, despite the cold surrounding me, having the sun’s rays on my skin—one of the many benefits of training in an outdoor pool. I touched the pool wall, and after a few seconds, my heart rate slowly returned to normal. I took a moment to catch my breath, then pushed off underwater again. A few powerful dolphin kicks later, I began the dolphin stroke. Two arm strokes, one leg kick. It was always the same sequence. A routine I didn’t have to think about. My body performed the familiar movements as if on its own. Until the end. End of the lane. End of the set. End of the race. I could rely on my body. Just as I could rely on the water. It always had the same temperature, the same texture, the same pull. I felt drawn to the water, but the water always had the upper hand.

A squeaking sound pierced my subconscious and startled me awake. I was surrounded by darkness. My fingers were numb from the cold and clenched desperately for a grip on the slippery floor. Moonlight streamed through a narrow crack into the eerie room. His shadow glistened silver on the wet floor. Was this just a dream? Only little by little did consciousness return to me, and the darkness in front of my eyes disappeared. Drops of water ran from the ceiling, down the wall, to the floor, and pooled into an ever-growing puddle; one drop after another sank into it. The image before my eyes slowly faded away again.

With great effort, I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. Goosebumps formed all over my body, and I slowly ran my fingertips over them. My memories had been completely erased. A dull void had spread through my mind. I tried to catch a glimpse of the outside, but there was only darkness. The sound of the sea rang in my ears; I almost sank completely into it. Panic overwhelmed me, but a throbbing pain in my head kept me from following any train of thought. My head sank against the wall again, and I slipped into a daze. A chill crept into my temples and seemed to freeze all sensation, until I finally lost touch with my consciousness and drifted off once more.

A piercing creak made me jump up in alarm. The musty, wooden door on the other side of the room had opened a little wider. An icy breeze swept across the floor and made me shiver. Only gradually did my heartbeat slow down. Slowly, I tried to stand up. I braced myself with my hands on the floor and slid up along the wall, which sent a sharp pain shooting through my back. I ignored my trembling legs as best I could. While carefully putting one foot in front of the other, I started to think clearly again. At least, I tried to. I tried to escape this nightmare. But this was the question. If my situation was not an actual nightmare, my time was limited. I could feel immediate danger. Where the hell had I ended up? I grabbed the wooden door and opened it carefully. A seagull’s cry cut through the dusk. A splinter dug into the palm of my hand, making me flinch. I cursed—though I wasn’t quite sure if that was directed at the splinter or my situation.

I let my gaze wander across the island. A large building with barred windows loomed directly in front of me. The paint was already peeling from the walls, and the sea air had turned the white color yellow. Cautiously, I ventured a little further around the building and came upon what looked like a pier. I brushed a strand of hair from my face and looked up. My breath caught in my throat. Directly across from me stretched a skyline, partially concealed by fog. Sleepy yet full of stories, it loomed almost close enough to touch. At regular intervals, the waves crashed against the shore, as if trying to calm me down. But I was on the verge of another wave of panic hitting me—only this time, I was in my right mind. I was not dreaming at all. That skyline belonged to San Francisco. I spun around in a circle. “United States Penitentiary, Alcatraz Island” was written on a rusty sign. It took me a moment to realize where I was. On a former prison island. Alcatraz. And the only way to the mainland was across the water. I was a good swimmer, but there was no way I could make it across with my weakened body. At the same time, I knew that every passing minute here—without help, food, or water—was becoming more dangerous. I cautiously approached the shore and stared into the icy-looking water. I recognized my reflection on the shimmering surface. However, that wasn’t really me—more like an empty shell of who I once was. The moon bathed me in silvery light. My eyelids grew heavy but I kept going.

My toes touched the ice-cold water. Slippery stones beneath the soles of my feet. As smooth as the surface of a calm pool. But this wasn’t a pool. I could feel the cold currents of the Pacific. Rough and unforgiving, one wave after another rolled toward me and swept over my ankles. An icy wind blew through my hair and wrapped around my entire body. Shivering, I ventured a step forward. Then another. Until I was knee-deep in the waves. Tiny pebbles dug into my bare skin. I looked up and caught a blurred glimpse of the skyline sparkling in the morning mist. As if through a milky glass wall. A beauty, whose sparkle was obscured. Unsure, but determined, I staggered onward until my body completely surrendered to the biting cold.

I desperately gasped for air. Salty water poured down my throat, trying to keep me from breathing. My arms paddled frantically as if they were foreign objects. Repeatedly, I spat out salt water. My legs felt numb, unable to move. All memories of my countless hours of training seemed to have been erased. Training sessions in innocent pool water. I had always felt at home in the cool water. But now, I was fighting. Against the current. Against the cold. And against the urge to just let go. To surrender to the Pacific. To sink into the depths. Saltwater burned in my eyes. I could literally feel tiny grains of salt drilling into my eyeballs. My body felt limp. The Pacific engulfed me and tossed me wildly back and forth. The air I needed to breathe was growing ever scarcer. I could no longer think clearly, and my heart was pumping relentlessly. It was trying to keep up with the force of the Pacific. But, after a few minutes, it took control and pulled me along until my body surrendered to the depths. My time was running out.