Go with the flow

CW: Drowning, trauma, mental health, suicidal thoughts

“Let go!” someone shouted. “Stop fighting it. Go with the flow.”

Helena couldn’t take the pressure anymore. The river thrashed around her, waves crashing against her chest, tearing the little air she had right out of her lungs. She gasped, choking on the air that wasn’t there. She wanted to scream, to cry, but she used the little strength she had to keep her head above the water, fighting the unforgiving current.

She couldn’t let go. There was a waterfall at the end of this river, she could hear its distant roar, feel the rapid pull of the water as it was swallowed and taken into the depths. She could sense its hunger, the eagerness to devour her whole.

The fight was not over. She wouldn’t surrender, not just yet, if only out of sheer spite.

A barely audible whimper escaped her lips before another wave slammed her under, the world above vanishing into cold darkness. It felt impossible.

In this moment of silence, as if the whole world was holding its breath, Helena contemplated giving up, not bothering anymore to try to return to the surface. She was so, so tired. She failed to imagine an end to this suffering. There was nothing left in this world other than a bleak, dark sky, freezing wetness and pain mingling with numbness. She couldn’t recall any sensations of warmth and pleasure. Had she ever felt warm in her life? There was no memory beyond the pit of endless suffering.

A sudden, sharp cramp in her left leg tore her mouth open in a scream, only to be silenced by the smothering water. Her body took over, jerking upright.

Clawing toward the light, Helena reached out, and with one last exhausted push, shoved herself back to the surface. There was no reprieve. She retched. Coughed. Violently. Vomited the water with painful gags. Still suffocating, although there was air flowing around her. The wind slapped her face as if forcing the water back into her lungs, which she had fought so hard to clear out.

Tears pooled in her eyes, only to be quickly blown or washed away by the raging forces of nature. The first gulp of air she managed to breathe forced out tears of relief, not of pain.

A wave hit her face, washing away the thick, heavy curtain of dark hair clearing the path for the eyes. Through hazy vision Helena could make out the shore not so far away. She would try.

The voice she heard earlier shouted something again, but it was muffled by the roaring of the water and the howling wind. She didn’t trust the voice anyway. Why would she let go and let the river take her who knows where? Her best guess was indeed a waterfall. At least here she knew the familiar angry waves, the tall trees gazing upon her.

She liked to imagine the trees rooting for her, the only friends and support she would get in a place like this.

Then, a glimmer of unexpected hope. An old tree leaned over the river, one of its branches stretching out like an offered hand. Forgetting her previous thoughts, Helena's entire focus shifted on that little branch she could make out from here. Nothing else existed in the whole world, just her and the offered branch.

She kicked and pushed, lungs on fire, swallowing more water than air. Desperate coughs broke her advance, fighting their own fight to remove the liquid. It felt like she wasn’t moving at all, making no progress.

The sight of her saviour, the branch, rekindled the flame of fight that once burned in her heart.

Another intense push forward, then a sudden sting tore across her arm. Helena cried out from the sharp pain, but then she the source of it. The branch.

As she hesitated for a second, the river took its opportunity to erase her advance by taking her away. She kicked and lunged forward, grasping for it. She missed. Despair hit her harder than the current. The familiar misery washed over Helena and she wanted to give up.

But the branch was right there, so close. Just one more try, what did she have left to lose?

With a final surge, she caught the thin, fragile tip of the branch and held on.

It was the only way she could get out of this alive, she couldn’t imagine any other way. The river would not win, she decided. The river that tried to drown her, break her, pull her into its depths, and crush her against the rocks at the bottom of the fall.

Rage filled her core and the burn of it brought some warmth against the stinging cold.

With a soundless scream Helena lunged upward and with her other hand grabbed the branch higher. Her arms were giving out, she was exhausted. No strength remained to pull herself up.

She tried to scream. The wind quickly swallowed whatever rasp of voice came out.

How unfair all of this was. She didn’t deserve to suffer like this. The thoughts that came felt like additional slaps in the face. Why was nobody coming to save her? It was always her surviving all on her own. Nobody would come. It was her against the immense power of this river. It always had been.

Helena gritted her teeth and held on. There was no plan, only the trembling fear and helplessness remained. This was all she had. The fragile sense of relative safety, the little hope to stay above the water and not get crushed on those rocks.

She was certain of the waterfall although it was still out of sight. No current this strong would lead anywhere else. There was no other way, she had to hold on. She would eventually pull herself up... right?

Like little drips of water filling the well of misery, doubt and resignation crept in. She despised being this helpless. If not being drowned or crushed, she might as well freeze to death.

The thrashing and thundering stream was so loud that she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts properly. Somewhere beyond it, the voice called again, faint, unreal. Was it even there or just a figment of her own imagination through the delirium of, perhaps, being dead already?

But she knew what the voice was saying, even without hearing the words. She made a mockery of it in her head, “Let go yourself.” She refused to believe or trust the words. There was no way she would just let go of the little control she had and float into sure death.

A resigned sigh escaped her lips. At this point, what was there to lose? She might as well let the fall claim her, any sensation had left her body a while ago. She was numb. Would she even feel it once the crash came?

Her fingers loosened, not in weakness, but in acceptance.

Helena would embrace the unknown.

She plummeted backward into the wild, raging river. The waiting wave quickly grabbed her and swept her away. She held her breath waiting to meet the waterfall at last, waiting for the savage fall.

But it never came.

The water churned and roared, lunging for her, trying to claim her, pulling her with it. Yet she remained where she was, she was no longer part of that dance.

The ever-changing and moving treetops were directly above her, unmoving, frozen in time. Except for their little green leaves, shaking as if waving at her. Helena was confused. Had she lost her mind already? Was this what dying felt like?

Finally, observing her surroundings, she realized it was not just her and the river anymore. There was a third. A vast net stretched across the river. Helena lay tangled in its center, like a stunned fish unable to move.

The realization washed over her in a sudden wave. She was not dead.

With violently trembling hands, she gripped the dense threads of the net and began to pull herself sideways. Helena didn’t know where this sudden burst of strength came from or how it was even possible. She didn’t care what awaited her on the shore. All that mattered right now was to get out of this river. Little by little she navigated the net and kept moving sideways. Flapping, slimy fish kept hitting her face and arms, but she would not let go. The flimsy branch she had clung to so desperately moments ago thinking it was her only chance was nothing compared to this enormous net that would actually save Helena.

Her numb toe struck something solid and hard. Then her other foot touched the slippery, cold surface of a rock. The riverbed. She relaxed her weight onto both feet.

Stepping forward, Helena collapsed, submerging herself in the shallow water just a few steps from the shore. The screaming current faded to a hushed whisper.

Helena lay on the wet stones, water washing gently around her. Caressing her limbs, the muscles that throbbed from effort and pain.

She coughed. Gasped. Then a wild laugh escaped her lips - a raspy, raw, arrhythmic sound. She was alive, against all odds, here she was - alive.

The flow had taken her somewhere unexpected. Above her, the dark gray clouds opened and a ray of sunshine leaped out to greet her. Helena sat up. Squinting her eyes, she looked around and dropped her gaze onto a beautiful meadow glittering with all colors, stretching as far as the horizon went.

The wonderful floral fragrance in the air hit her senses all at once, and she became dizzy. The sun, with its friendly warmth, lulled her into cheerful bliss.

What was she fighting exactly? It was a distant memory.