Her throat constricted and her lungs were ready to burst. She tried to open her eyes to catch sight of the ocean floor, but it seemed to elude her. How beautiful the calm was down here, no thundering of waves or the tearing sound of water on rocks. If only she could feel as calm as her surroundings. And yet, wasn’t this what she’d always wanted, to lie on the ocean bed and wait for the sea to take her. She’d dreamt of this moment, of floating and falling and then the silence. She hadn’t dreamt of the survival instinct that kicks in, of the terrible physical pain or, worst of all, the uncertainity that this what she really did want. Too late now, she’d made the decision. Or could she, would she, try and swim back up using the very last vestiges of her strength? Up and up to the cocophony of the storm, relying on the tide to throw her onto the shore. And what then? It would start all over again - her compulsion to lie on the ocean bed - her drowning wish.