Depths of The Atlantic

By Maya Petzoldt, TIWP Student

Up and down, that’s how it goes. Up and down and all around again. I wished I could do more. But there’s little you can do in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. I would wish for people to come find me, but they don’t.

I planned this. I told them I wanted to see it. They told me it would cost me my life, to ask myself if it was really worth it. I said I’d tell them the next time I saw them, whether that be dead or alive.

So that escalated into me jumping out of a plane and into the Atlantic ocean, with no flotation or contact devices.

The pilot was more than happy to drop me off, said I was crazy but he’d fly over in an hour or two to see if there was a body to collect. I had told him he didn’t have to, that there’d be no body to collect. He had looked at me even stranger then, but by that time I was already falling through the air.

Falling through the air felt amazing, like nothing I had ever known before. I had felt the wind moving before, but nothing was or ever has been so slow and fast at the same time. I felt the wind moving like a bullet all around me, but the impending landing in the water never sped up, always slowly becoming more near. That was a feeling I would love to feel again.

But, that feeling is of no matter to me now. As I am bobbed up and down by the waves, I begin to sink. This, this is what I am looking for. This is why I jumped into the Atlantic Ocean. This is why I risked my life. This is why I said goodbye.

As I become submerged, I open my eyes to see the ocean flipped. It’s like that one statue, that you have to tell is the indent or the popout. But this time, I know it’s the indent.

It’s a whole new version.

I have often referred to the waves of the oceans like folding pieces of fabric. But now, now it seems like you’re pulling the fabric away from me. It’s as if your being suspended in the air, and the ground is being pulled away from you.

As my lungs began to burn, I turn around, facing the depths. I smile, and close my eyes, letting myself drift off. Because I saw one tiny thing, right before I closed my eyes. It’s because of that that I know I’ll make it out alright.

It’s because I saw the lights.

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