The Learner

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, shakily. Her hands were clenched at her sides and she forced herself to relax. That's what her coach used to say. Breathe, relax and then jump.

The river in front of her glided along smoothly, cutting through the carpet of grass. It was like a blue ribbon - standing out fearlessly amongst the greenery surrounding it. Its beauty was evident in the way it gracefully dodged the rocks in between it and flowed on, never stopping for anyone. It didn't look swift, but she knew better.

Her eyes closed themselves as her breathing quickened. She could hear it come out in shallow pants and the incessant pounding of her heart. She could hear the sound of birds twittering in the trees around her, her harsh pants of breath and the river.

The river which had taken away whom she loved.

She recalled herself sitting silently in front of his coffin, in which lay his body. She recalled seeing his mother cry. She recalled him and that brought another surge of tears to her eyes.

If only she could swim to its depths, if only she could find what she lost. No. No, it wasn't what she lost. It wasn't what she was supposed to lose. It was what this river had snatched from her.

All her years of training of swimming seemed to fall flat in front of the strong current of the river. It didn't matter that she was the best swimmer for miles around her town. All she could see was the river and it sounded as if it was laughing cruelly at her, challenging her.

Fear. Fear surged in and she almost unconsciously took a step back. When she realised that, she let out another breath and moved two steps forward. She would not allow it to scare her.

Yes, even after all this time, with bitterness and regret she felt a pang of fear in her heart whenever she looked at it. She wished she wasn't scared. She wished she could be like him..... brave and impulsive. If only he hadn't been this impulsive. If only she knew how to swim. If only she could have forgotten about practicality, maybe he would be here, right now beside her. Maybe he wouldn't have to swim alone. Maybe she could have helped him.

Maybe......

"We were just kids." She whispered, her hands wrapped around herself. Suddenly the air seemed much colder and the river looked more menacing than it had before. A tiny whimper escaped her lips, as she choked out the words.

"Just two nine year olds who wanted to see the river."

A teardrop brushed down and she could almost feel him. Simon, standing beside her, holding her hand. He had been pointing out the silver fish which swam in the river. Simon spotting the little girl's doll slipping into the river. It had been such a pretty doll. Such a beautiful doll. Simon diving into the water.

Simon never coming back up.

She had screamed and screamed, hoping it would help. She didn't dive into the water. Always the practical one, always the sensible one, all she had done was scream.

And then, his body had been dragged out by the adults of the town. She had watched as his mother kneeled down and gazed at her son's bloated body.

"Oh Harry ! Harry, Simon's gone ! What do I do, Harry ? What do I do ?" She had kept on mumbling.

Harry was Simon's father who had passed away two years after his birth. She remembered how Simon was his mother's..... everything. Whatever she did, she did for him.

And his body.

His body had been bloated and swelled a bit but he was still recognisable. She hated how she could still make out his slightly crooked nose, his closed eyes and his thin mouth. She would have imagined it to be someone else, anyone else if she didn't recognise his features. At least she could try.

And then, the following year his mother had commited suicide. Died. She had curled up by herself that day, looking at the stars, wondering why she endured this pain when she could simply end it.

But, like the coward she was, she never could do it. Even when the knife was in her hands, she would stop, stare at the mirror and then go back to her room.

Soft sobs broke through the songs of the birds. Just her, the trees and the river.

"Coward." The wind seemed to whisper through the trees and she wanted to block them, but she couldn't.

He would want her to get in. He would want her to learn.

"I'll teach you how to swim today."

This was what he had said before jumping in. His last words.

She ran. Ran full speed towards the river, right until she was standing on the verge of it.

And then, she jumped.

Gasping, she dived in, holding her breath. Blue water greeted her and she struggled to keep her balance. Her arm stroked the water, her leg kicked it and she swam. The current was swift, the river was menacing but this was....this was for Simon.

Her arms stroked the water, harder and harder. Fighting....for what ?

All she could remember was his bobbing head, his stupid comics, his teddy bear propped up on his bed and his lopsided grin. Stupid, stupid Simon and his impulsive decisions.

"I'm swimming with you, Simon. Can you see me ?" She thought repeatedly as the memories clicked through her head - the same way Simon had rifted through the numerous photographs they had clicked at the town fair.

Panting, her hands moved forward, expecting more water. No. Land. Solid land. Spluttering, she rose up. She was drenched - both with memories and the water.

She pulled herself up and took in a deep breath of air. She sank down on the grassy bank, adrenaline and disbelief still pumping through her.

"I'll be back."

But he hadn't come back. She had.

He would be proud. She knew he would be.

She lay down on the grass and felt her teardrops trickle down, one by one. She had always felt ashamed of crying in front of others and then he had come in. He had held her tight against whatever came her way.

She remembered the jacket he had worn that day - it was the same jacket she had given to him on his birthday. He had tossed it on the grass and leapt in. She wished he hadn't done that. He would be cold in those depths without it.

She hoped he would understand why she couldn't do anything. She never understood it herself, but maybe he could. He usually understood and explained it - just like the math problems he explained to her after school.

The river, the woods. Their hideout, their safe spot. It had betrayed them and after nine years she had come back.

She felt him now, beside her. She almost always did, but now it was stronger than ever. If she shut her eyes she could feel his fingers intertwined in hers, pointing out patterns in the clouds. Him sketching innumerable pictures of her, sitting here on the grass. Him smiling, him living the life he deserved to live.

"You did it, Simon. I have learnt it. I have learnt."