I stand in Wellington where the air is laced with sea mist and the wind whips my hair as the stingrays lash their fins. With friends, falling feels a lot like flying. Gliding towards the water to greet the people and other strange creatures below. The water tumbles around me like a gelatinous quilt. Drops of liquid glass take flight high above my head which has already begun slipping down under the surface. The rays of the sun glare brightly in the ocean and dance around the waves. Fish the size of my pinky finger glide in between my toes and disappear in a forest of seaweed that stretches up from the seabed. I drop my weight and allow myself to fall closer towards calm and further from fear. I bob in the water for a few seconds more before air starts to be sucked from my lungs; I then push myself up and take a large gasp. The oxygen glides into lungs filling them up and replacing the breaths I lost down below. Waves lap at my ears diminishing every sound around me. I cough and splutter as sea water rockets out my nose and mouth. The taste of sharp seawater radiates throughout my entire body shaking me into a fit.
Thick crimson liquid dribbles down my face temporarily blinding me. As people leap into the water in a rescue attempt, I can feel the hot liquid wash away from my body and into the water. I feel thick arms wrap swiftly around my torso and drag me through the water. Hard plastic scrapes against my back and my head is elevated slightly. The sun blares down into my eyes piercing the back of my eyes making my head ache. A face hovers over mine before darkness.