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[Originally posted by Pippin]

Pretty much every single book and film Amy had read or watched that involved someone drowning had always had a similar description, aside from the obvious. They’d all stated that drowning was peaceful, as far as deaths went. A final moment of calm, as you floated into nothingness, with peaceful last thoughts. Amy’d never believed that, had never seen how anyone could describe something so terrifying to her as “peaceful”.

Now she was experiencing it firsthand. And if Amy had been in a better state of mind, she might have remembered those movies and thought of how right she was.

But as soon as she felt Max grab her, the terror that had been so close to leaving her mind had gripped it once again. She was screaming as she hit the water, and the stagnant water flooded her mouth and throat. Amy could see nothing, eyes screwed tightly shut, but she could feel the hard tiled bottom of the pool, could feel the whole of Max’s weight on top of her, keeping her there, lungs desperately searching for air that would never be found.

Amy thrashed about wildly, aimlessly searching for Max, trying to hit him, hoping against hope for another lucky shot, churning the water, as all the while the pressure in her head grew and she felt herself lose focus. There was to be no reprieve, no copy of her earlier attempt at escape, as Max first grabbed hold of her hair, then her right arm, pressing it down hard against the floor of the pool.

Even as desperation gripped her, and she tried to thrash and flail even wilder despite the clouds filling her mind, some part of Amy knew it was all over. She was going to die here, drowning in a stagnant green pool miles from anyone she knew. There would be no poignant last words, no chance to see everyone she loved. Mum, Dad, Dale, Lilly, Destiny, Mike; all they’d have left of her would be a corpse floating face down in the pool.

The rest of Amy, however, continued to struggle and flail, doing anything to get Max off of her, his weight feeling heavier and heavier, knowing that there was always a chance, always some stroke of luck that could happen. She had believed she could get off the island, and she believed she could live. She tried to grab Max’s finger, tried to break it, to hurt him, to do anything to just get him off of her. And just like before, it seemed like that hoping and praying in fear had paid off. Max was pulling her back by the hair, to the surface, and-

And just like before, that hope was snuffed out instantly, as Max slammed her head down, through the water with terrifying force, before she hit the tiles with a sickening crack. Her thoughts blurred, her head and lungs burned, and that hope which she’d kept going right until the end finally died out.

No no no, please, no, I-


Mike, I... I don’t want to-


The third time was the charm. She stopped struggling, her vision and thoughts gone, and a few moments later, there was nothing left at all.

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