I reach a clearing at the end of the narrow path I’ve followed for miles. Nothing but trees and the whispers of wind. The rustling leaves shelter me from the light gray clouds, faintly lit by the shimmer of sun that blankets the powder-blue sky. The only sound is the quiet hums falling from my lips. My boots leave a clear outline in the snow as my jacket shifts around my torso with each step.

I find myself at the edge of a lake buried in the trees. The water is still and slightly murky, no trace of the ground below. All signs of human life are long gone, the buzz of the city reduced to silence. The breeze stings as it cuts down my neck and spine. Goosebumps rise on my arms, the pale hairs standing like soldiers waiting for command. I kick at small pebbles and stones and line the path. They slice through the air before falling to meet others ahead. One skips into a shallow pool that ripples outward into the frostbitten lake, which is slowly beginning to freeze over in the dropping cold.

My eyes follow the stone as it sinks, disappearing into the depths. I’m not sure how, but suddenly I’m struggling to stay afloat. I’ve drifted to the center of the lake with no way back to shore. No one can hear my desperate cries. The water swallows me whole, splashing into my eyes, filling my mouth. It floods my lungs, invading every inch of me. My body weakens, unable to keep fighting against the waves that seem to exist only because of my panic. First my chin slips beneath the surface, then my forehead, then my eyes. I inhale one last breath through my nose before it, too, is consumed. The weight of water and the world press down with crushing force. My limbs go still. The light that once showed me the world fades as I sink into the darkness.

Time stretches. Maybe hours pass, maybe just seconds. The tears on my cheeks dissolve into the water around me. I’m still here, motionless, oxygen gone, yet somehow aware. With the last of my strength, I fight. I kick, I flail, until my hands it a solid barrier above me, a thin, frosted layer of ice. It mirrors my reflection back at me. I see what I should be fighting for. Who I should be fighting for. I pound against the surface, pain shooting through my wrists and arms. I keep pounding even though no one is there to see me. This battle feels pointless. My face could be pressed against the ice and no one would notice. The surface fogs over. Even if someone were out there, they couldn’t see me now. Still, I try to break through, to climb out, to escape the numbness that has taken over my body.

I want to feel. I just have to let myself feel. The though screams in my head. I know no one can hear me, so I scream aloud. Bubbles rush from my mouth, and water floods my lungs again.

Then I rise. Sitting. Coughing. Water gushes from my lungs as my chest heaves. My body, desperate to save itself. I bring my hands to my face, it’s warm. I wipe away the water from my lashes and blink. I was underwater, fighting for my life. But not in a lake.

I rise from the bathtub. The water nearly spills over the porcelain rim. I shut it off, climb out, and wrap myself in a soft white towel that reminds me of snow. Slowly, I make my way to the bedroom. I pull pajamas from the drawer, dress, and crawl into bed. The blankets swallowing me whole.

I was drowning, but this time I was drowning in air.