A sunny day,
with a summer breeze,
lake Superior glistens with life.

My family of six,
like leaves on a stream,
float peacefully on slick kayaks.

The sky turns grey,
and the water turns black,
but the color from my dad’s face drains.

The lake traps us with its power,
the lifeless shore ahead,
seems to get further as the storm chases us.

The waters slaps our faces,
but they help conceal my tears of fear.

“CRASH!”
Yells the wave that slams against my kayak.
“HELP!”
Yells the girl who tips into Lake Superior.

My body is submerged in water,
so cold it burns.
The screams from my family,
muted,
as I’m stuck underwater,
still stuck in my upside down kayak.

Kicking does little.
The lifejacket that was sworn to be my savior,
keeps drawing me back to the enemy.
The kayak seat.

My panic tells my breath to quicken,
but the water fills my lungs,
begs me to stop.

Kick.
I’m free.
I swim to the surface,
only to hit my head on the thing that’s slowly killing me.

My head feels light,
when I know there’s nothing light about the situation.
Slowly, my consciousness slips away,
just like my desperate flailing arms slowly weaken.

A silent surrender.

I feel like I’m floating,
like an angel flying to heaven,
but no,
my head rises above the water.
The lifejacket was my savior after all.

I  cough before I can even think about breathing,
“she’s up!”
The raspy voice that hollers can barely be heard over the the coarse wind.

My mouth opens,
ready to shout,
ready to pray,
but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is water.

Coughing,
crying,
dying.

I can’t think.
My lungs aren’t the only thing drowning,
my head feels like a fishbowl,
filling with water and thoughts swimming in my mind.

I hear a poisonous siren in the distance,
I can’t tell if it’s the ringing in my ears or a tornado warning.

Strong arms pull me from the water,
I’m set down in an old friend of mine,
a kayak.

The smoky clouds taunt me,
the waves laugh while I cry.

We call for the safety boats,
but even they say the waves are too treacherous to cross.
Guess they’re not so safe after all.

We wait,
for the help that will never come.

We wait,
in the kayaks that brought us together,
kayaks we’ll always remember,
kayaks that made us cry out in laughter,
kayaks that made me cry in surrender.