The water in the pool.
Ripples at the bottom.
To feel the strong tug.
The knees go weak.
To take a step back.
The heart beat fast.
Of legs kicking.
And hands trashing.
Water, water, water.
I am underwater.
Suffocating. Drowning.
I am four-years-old.
Left alone for a minute.
Bathtub filling with water.
The toy just out of reach.
Almost a watery grave.
A memory is triggered.
The nightmare surfaces.
So too, the phobia.
But fear is under control.
There’s no fear of the ocean.
I love the crashing waves.
As for bathtubs and pools,
The child inside remembers
By C.E. Pereira
(18-8-2019)
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I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. In recent years, the younger generation have added on to include spouses from the Philippines, Nigeria and Russia. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique.
Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems.
I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination.
To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome.
Sincerely,
C.E. Pereira
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HoneyGwhiz 
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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I fell off an inflatable into the sea ( calm English sea! ) when I was eight. I couldn’t swim and went under the water, sure I was going to drown and imagining Mum and Dad sad! Then I stood up, the water was shallow and nobody had noticed my drama!
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Thank you for your sharing. 🌻
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A sad trauma, well-remembered and described…
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Thank you.
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