by Maggie Sorensen
You are swimming at dawn. The sky’s color is starting to wane you feel your breath being sucked from your lungs. The dark water pulls you under, as the blood seeps out of the wound somewhere on your body, the only feeling you have left is that of dread and death. Many nights you stay under that cold and desolate water, many nights you feel that pang of sadness creep into you throat as you continue to run out of air. Hours and days have passed ships and boats have floated into view, but not one time could you reach up that withered hand to feel the warmth touch your skin. You feel the sensation of sinking every time the night closes over you, you don’t understand the fact that you are still living but you are grateful of it, the breath returns to your body just as soon as it had gone; you soon jump awake and feel that you are still underwater you had been dreaming, tears pool into your eyes and you cry out letting the last breath escape.
Maggie Sorensen is a student of youth. Trumpets always sound at her arrival no matter where she goes. She'd like to think she's dangerous but, truth be told, she's just a fiery red-head.