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I don’t know which way is up, and my lungs are burning, straining, with the effort of holding air that’s not enough to sustain me. I start to panic that I’m suffocating and the instinct to gasp in is something I have to fight with my entire willpower. Swishing my arms and legs around in a bid to swim to the surface, but every direction is a formidable black wall of nothing. I can’t even see the car anymore. I don’t know what’s down, up, left, or right.

My gut pulls me one way, something like a sixth sense, that it’s to oxygen, and I kick with fury and extend my arms in a grasping motion as I fight as much a is can to find light and air. It’s a good guess, and as my face breaks the surface, I gasp with all my might to breathe it in before I’m plunged back under with the reactive force up my upward thrust. A moment of relief, followed by the reality that I’m far from safe.

I resurface with less gusto, clawing at