Writing Prompt Wednesday #118

Deep beneath the waves, an echo of the past ripples through your mind. Past legends warned you of the waters which you cannot see. Never cross the border where you can’t see beyond your feet. Those warnings were just feeble tall tales. Right? https://www.instagram.com/p/CaZrhq7LO3H/

    …I bite my lip and glance out at the waves crashing at the shore. The sea is dark, the stormy gray-blue that mother always warned me about. The skies above aren't much better, with almost-black puffs of clouds spreading across the horizon. The wind’s picked up now, chilly against my bare arms.
    They always warned me about what lurked beneath the depths.
    I inch into the water, slowly, so as to not submerge myself with the ice immediately. And that is what the water is, ice. I’m not sure how it isn’t frozen like the snow that litters the shore behind it. I hardly even have time to wonder about it as the water creeps up past my toes, my knees, my waist, up to my chest.
    Only my head is left, and it’s always the worst part. With a grimace, I plunge underneath the icy water.
    For a moment, just a moment, my entire world is on fire. Well, not fire. Fire implies that something is flaming and hot and that is definitely not what is happening here. But it does burn, just as much as a hot metal skillet on mother’s stove would burn my hand. The pain overtakes my mind, freezing everything, and for a moment, it’s all I can do to keep my feet on the sand.
    But, like all kinds of pain, it becomes bearable. As second by second passes, the burning subsides to a dull ache. An ache that makes my blood pound and a sea-salty smile creep across my lips.
    My hair is wet and my clothes are wet and my entire being is cold and burning, but it doesn’t matter so long as I’m here. The pain fades into an ache, and the ache gives way to a kind of euphoria. An elation.
    I kick further into the sea, only breaching the surface for air when I so desperately need it that my lungs start to burn worse than the water around me burns my skin. I kick and I swim until my muscles are tired and aching with the effort. I swim until I cannot see the shore.
    It is only then that I plunge beneath the surface, letting loose the breath in my lungs as I kick my way to the bottom.
    Mother always warned me about never swimming out too far, about what lurked beneath the depths of an ocean where you could not see.
    No one had the mind to warn her about me; no one had the mind to warn anyone about me. Not until it was too late.