Uploaded October 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
I could never open my eyes underwater, in a pool or in the ocean. Not because of the chlorine or the salt. I think it was psychosomatic, or maybe superstition: If I couldn't see what was down there, it couldn't see me. It's amazing what you can make yourself believe when you've got nothing to save you, and for many years this little quirk served me fine. Until the day I heard its voice, under my feet, getting louder and closer. And though my eyes shut tight the whole time it took me in, the last thought I ever had was how I wished I could have plugged my ears in time.
I could never open my eyes underwater, in a pool or in the ocean. Not because of the chlorine or the salt. I think it was psychosomatic, or maybe superstition: If I couldn't see what was down there, it couldn't see me. It's amazing what you can make yourself believe when you've got nothing to save you, and for many years this little quirk served me fine. Until the day I heard its voice, under my feet, getting louder and closer. And though my eyes shut tight the whole time it took me in, the last thought I ever had was how I wished I could have plugged my ears in time.
