No Little Duck Came Back
While I was on vacation with my parents, we stood on the deck overlooking the sea when my father suddenly asked, "Mother duck says quack, quack, quack, quack. But?"
I was about to reply, "Only four little ducks came back," when he kicked me into the water.
"What's taking you so long to finish a song? Are you cognitively arrested or what?" he barked.
Cold water filled my lungs like lead as I bobbed in the waves. "Help me, Dad! I can't swim!"
My mother told the captain to steer the superyacht away instead. "Then stay in the water a little longer. Self-preservation may finally make you learn to swim. That's what you need. Real grit and adversity to unlock your potential."
I flailed my arms and fought to stay afloat, but panic took over. My right leg cramped and refused to move.
I could only watch the superyacht fade into the horizon.
I drifted for a while before I could catch up with my parents' superyacht. I wished I could tell them how many ducks came back, but they would never hear my voice again.