"Ahhhhhhhh!" and all I could think is how my scream is muffled, and no one can hear me. I try to take a breath , but there is no oxygen to feed my lungs. I'm falling deeper and deeper. So deep I think I'm going to go on forever. Then suddenly, I hit bottom....hard, and I bounce up. But instead of taking another bounce, I keep going up as if angels were lifting me away from harm. A myriad of pearls run over my face and body, tickling me, as I reach our world once again and take what seems like my first glorious breath. This incident is very hard for a five-year-old child to go through. I'm very glad that when I fell into my backyard pool, I didn't have much harm done to me other than some water up the nose.
"Evette, will you PLEASE go swimming with me?" I pleaded.
"Fine, go get your swimsuit on."
When I was five years old, there was nothing more exciting than going swimming with my big sister, Evette. Swimming with my dad was all right, but swimming with Evette was a real treat. I don't know if you would really call it swimming, though. The only things I could do that were close to swimming were: sitting on the steps, floating in a floatie, or having someone who could swim carry me around. But it didn't matter to me; I still loved to get in the pool. Now this particular afternoon was pretty hot, perfect for going swimming. So after we got our suits on and got our towels together, we were off to the backyard! Our backyard was HUGE to me at this age, and our pool was a massive lake! I stepped onto the first step...