Cerulean tides rippled aggressively as the sun glistened over a now trembling surface. Underneath it all lies my prepubescent body, panicked, thrashing, and scrambling for air. Was this the end as I knew it?

EARLIER…

The second term of high school seemed to be going fairly well. I’ve already managed to crack the honor roll, and was now looking forward to even greater success this go-round. However, there seemed to be one impossible class standing in my way (other than Spanish with Senor Shitterson) – Nautical Science.

You see, the only reason I was admitted into my high school was because I joined one the government’s magnet programs offered by the school. These kinds of programs are science-based and tend to focus on leading students down a particular career path.

At the time, it was Nautical Science for me. You know, boat captain, marine engineer, traveling the world via ship, tying ropes, port, and starboard, which all seemed pretty okay. Unfortunately, all these things revolved around one extremely elusive skill of mine, swimming. The water [shudders].

It was something I’ve been dreading ever since joining the program. I’ve never really had a need to know how to swim, other than living on an actual island surrounded by sea.

Nonetheless, occasional trips to the beach paired with my flamingo-like legs made me accustomed to simply standing up in the water with my feet planted on the surface below.

Besides, I’ve always loathed the feeling of not having any foundation to stand on, no certainty; it’s like you’re just floating there, leaving everything to chance, trusting in the sway and saunter of some bodily liquid.

Psychologically, I think this fear of not being grounded personally stems from deeply-rooted trust issues from my past, my waking paranoia of human-kind, and my usual preference for control (which only wavers under extenuating circumstances). But hey, what do I know?

So our teacher, (who for the sake of anonymity I’m gonna call Mr Mavis) announces to the class that the next time we meet we’ll be heading to the Betty Kelly pool by the National Stadium. “Bring your swimwear and for those of you who need it, life vests will be available”, he prompted with very little life in his voice.

My eyes burst wide-open, sweat begins draining down my forehead as I realized that this would not go over smoothly for me. And honestly, it wasn’t even about being embarrassed in front of my fellow classmates. It had more to do with getting a poor grade because I sucked in water. (SEA CREATURES RULE, BTW!)

But hopefully I get lucky and the world comes to an abrupt end before next class. It could happen right?

WRONG! The next day found me on the bus, flipping the bird at the universe for not granting my request. We arrived on-time to the swimming pool and were instructed to immediately change into our swimsuits. Maybe the pool will be shallow, my last glint of optimism whispered to me.

I come out the changing room, red trunks, chicken-chest and all, and see that there’s in fact a kitty pool. “YAAAASSSS LORD!”, I began celebrating. Just judging by its dimensions, I knew I’d be able to walk around and feel my way through today’s class with ease.

However, my impertinent attention is snatched by a now screeching Mavis, who sirens from the opposite direction. “Over here, Terran! We’ll be using this pool.” My face drops. With every ounce of optimism now leaving my body, I’m surprised I didn’t shit up myself.

Next to Mr Mavis was this immense body of water, an 8-ft 9-inch deep body of water to be exact. I was so devastated just looking at it. I felt the urge to cry, but it was overpowered by the fear of loosing my life.

He assembled and lined us off to break down the procedure for today’s class. He uses my buddy J.R. as an example to show the rest of the class what to do.

J.R. obviously had years of swimming experience from early childhood, plus his massive head was a personal flotation device in and of itself. As Mavis rattled off the instructions, I listened intently and mentally critiqued along the way:

• I want you to jump off the ledge of the pool – [WHAT?]
• Pinch your nose and cross your legs when doing so – [WHAT?]
• When you float back up – [IF.]
• Swim to the far end of the pool, then down to the other end, then come back to the middle – [ASSUMING WE CAME BACK UP.]
• Afterwards – [OH, THERE’S MORE?]
• You’re going to tread the water for 3 straight minutes – [WE’RE GONNA WHAT?]

J.R. descends into the water and begins moving about like a majestic dolphin. The amount of grace being exuded from his body was arguably creepy and unnatural. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away for even a second. SO. MUCH. GRACE.

“Damn”, I concluded after witnessing his flawless run. Now only if he could do that again, but this time let me balance on top of his head.

As more and more of my classmates plunged into the watery world unknown, I stood near the back of the queue frozen, clenching onto the orange life vest for dear life. My best friend had already been nudged into the pool by Mr Mavis himself, so I had no faith in him being lenient with me whatsoever.

This was my first time in an actual pool of this magnitude; I was taken aback really, scared absolutely shitless. My time had finally arrived, I look up to give the universe one final plea, but nothing. I secured my life vest tighter than a $300 weave and prepared for the worst.

Mr Mavis reminds me of the instructions, but all of his words fall helplessly on deaf ears. I’m so preoccupied soullessly staring at my soon to be watery grave that there was nothing he can say to make the tightness in my chest, or the watermelon-sized lump in my throat go away.

Quivering life a nude leaf in the chilled winds of winter, I turned back to face Mavis and begin bargaining for both my academic and physical life. “What kind of grade can I expect to get for this?”, I queried praying that my wit could get me out of this conundrum unscathed.

“Since you’re using a life jacket, the highest I can give you is 70 percent Terran”, he replied drily. Damn, that’s still a C. He reminds me that failure to at least get into the pool would result in an immediate F.

The fear of falling so academically low, paralyzed me more than the fear of this pool. An F was something I never genuinely received in my academic life. (Until college that is.)

So with unaccustomed boldness, I skyrocketed off the ledge, determined to scrape a decent grade. Eyes shut, I feel my frail body being submerged and bitten by the ravenous waters. My hollow bones sink me all the way to the pool’s bottom.

Skin now scraping along concrete, I peer my eyes open from below – the surface looked light-years away. I heard vaguely what I only could imagine were the voices of everyone else telling me to relax and allow the life jacket to bring me back up to Earth.

Cerulean tides rippled aggressively as the sun glistened over a now trembling surface. Underneath it all lies my prepubescent body, panicked, thrashing, and scrambling for air. Was this the end as I knew it?

With more and more chlorinated fluid flooding my respiratory system, I found myself mulling things over in my head. Indeed, in this apparent eternity, my GPA began flashing before my eyes. I couldn’t let this defeat me! Becoming increasingly cognizant of the limited time I had left, I decided it was either do or die.

I finally emerged from the depths, coughing and cackling like the last sea dog. Now reconditioning my lungs to oxygen, I questioned Mr. Mavis once more between deep breaths. “Can you round my 70 to a 71, so can at least get a B for today please?”

Sensing my desperation and probably sympathizing with how pathetic I was, Mavis agrees and nods, “Sure Terran, but only if you can complete that length.” Knowingly, he was ready to move on to the next student. But I wasn’t done just yet.

In the most awkward form ever, I paddled my body diagonally toward the far end of the pool. Sensing my newfound ambition, Mr Mavis questions my sudden change in movement, “TERRAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???!”

(My response to his question is a phrase that followed my throughout the rest of my time in high school. My Nautical Science classmates along with Mr Mavis would always reference the iconic line whenever we reminisced about the pool and needed a good laugh.)

I shouted in response, with fury lining my chords, “I’M GOING ALL THE WAY!”

Ah, the pool. It sucked.

Did you enjoy today’s story?  Let me know your thoughts in the comment section below.

If you liked this post, share it with others and click the links below to follow I-I on social media:

Instagram: @introverted_insight 

Twitter: @Introverted242 

Facebook: Introverted-Insight

Thank you so much for reading and I’ll see you next time on Introverted-Insight!

Can’t get enough of #StoryTimeMondays? Click here for more story-related content!