The Drowning Novel Novels & Stories

Closing my eyes I regulated my breathing, throwing off my jersey and knowing if I thought it over I wouldn’t do it and so, I blindly dived in, trying to see through all the red, but trying not to think about it too much, think about swimming in blood. He was dying. Justin Star was drowning right before my eyes. I was relieved when my fingers touched his cold skin, blinking rapidly to get a better sight of him. Pulling him up with all might because of how heavy he was, I tried my best to get him up to the surface. It helped in no way that this was the deep end of the pool.

A whimper starts in my chest and makes its way up. My fingers are somehow in his hair, running through the short carpet of thick hair. My hand is fluttering over his body, trying to feel as much of him as I can at once. This is what drowning must feel like. I want to sink far beneath the sea and never come back up.

Head pounding with panic and heart hammering in her chest, each moment in which she breached the surface saw her tossed upon the raging torrents, tumbling in the wake of the swells. Please, she cried against her watery prison, one final plea to endless silence cloaked by darkness. The ocean's only answer came in the form of something strong hooking beneath her armpits. Ashlyn wanted to scream out with her last breath of life as nails sharp as talons dug into flesh and dragged her through the surface to the violent rains and wind above. Something warm and solid pressed against her back, arms locking around her chest as they hoisted her higher into the frigid air.

I never imagined that someone like me, who always cared about how I looked, would die in such a wretched, hideous way. After the kidnappers brutally tortured me, they tossed me by the seaside, letting the freezing waves wash over my body again and again. Blood gushed from my wounds, staining the water around me. Sven Guerrero was completely consumed with Alina Leclair. He didn't spare a single thought about me. By the time I was brought to the hospital, all the blood had drained from my body, and my legs were shattered like those of a broken doll.

My chest burns from lack of air and I watch as I sink further, grass twisted around my ankles keeping me down. What a great way to die. Drowning. Finally a death I deserved.

[Just one more] Ravyn quickly texted back to Tisha with a screen from the ring, then she freestyle kicked and spread the water mass with her hands as her brain's oxygen depleted, causing her a throbbing headache. Even so, the girl continued to dive into the deep to get the nearest book, which was on the lower floor of the maze. As Ravyn's hand grabbed the book, a slight relief arose, causing her to relax as if she had fallen asleep. At that moment, Ravyn stopped holding her breath and choked hard. "My goodness! Ravyn is drowning."

I can't swim… Am I going to drown? Instinctively, she reached out, desperate to grab onto anything solid, but all she found was the frigid emptiness of the water. Her survival instincts urged her to keep fighting, but her strength quickly ebbed away. Her breaths grew shallow, her consciousness fading as the agony of drowning consumed her. Slowly, her body began to sink, her lips turning pale. Is this how I die? Will beother care if I'm gone? Not far away, Gavin surfaced from the water, his piercing eyes observing the scene with a detached coldness.

It terrified me, and with good reason. Drowning is a horrific way to go out. Well, it is if you're conscious. This was something I knew from experience. The cold and desperate feeling as water invades your nose and mouth. The impossible attempt to stay calm and hold your dwindling breath. The pain of lungs utterly depleted of oxygen.

It was cold, hitting my skin like a slap and my first instinct was to gasp. Wrong decision however as water filled my mouth, the taste of iron and something else prickling my throat. My lungs seized, panic screaming through every nerve in my body. I didn't know how to swim. I’d never learned. The water was over her head and I was sinking and my lungs were burning and I couldn't… I couldn't fucking breathe. This was it. This was how I died. In Giovanni De Santis's pool, drowning, and somehow that seemed fitting. Somehow it seemed better than going through with any of this.

he says hoarsely. “I dreamt I was drowning,” I tell him. His eyes sharpen instantly, scanning my face. “Drowning?” “Yeah.” I blink a few times, trying to shake the vividness of it. “It wasn’t just water. It was black, thick… like oil. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. And there were people on the shore, just… watching. No one tried to help. And I remember thinking… this is it. This is how I die. But then—” I pause, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Then I kicked up and somehow got air, but the whole time I knew it wasn’t over. That something was going to pull me back under.”