Of all the things I expected to happen today, this was the last thing I could have imagined encountering. And yet, as fate would have it, It seemed like I was in the right place at the right time.
The water parted easily as I pulled the stranger away from it's clutches. It was sheer luck that I had spotted you being dragged by the current, struggling and too weak to call for help. By the time I had gotten to you, you had slipped beneath the rushing water. it was only by chance that my hand had found your shoulder, my grip bruisingly tight as I pull you to the surface. I had gotten to you quick, it couldn't have been more than a few minutes since I had first seen you and yet, it seemed that I might be too late.
You were tense as I dragged you out, your chest convulsing violently as you choked on the river water. I could feel your heart fluttering wildly against my body, each beat like a desperate 'lub...lub...ub...lub...lub...lub...' beneath my tightening grip. I chose to stay silent, conserving my energy as I made my way toward the riverbank.
But then, you suddenly went limp, your weight becoming dead in my arms. The unexpected heaviness pulled me down for a moment, and with it came the first tendril of dread, tightening around my own heart.
I curse out loud as I drag us both to land, yanking you out of the water as far as I can before laying you down on the rocky riverbank. Your knees remain submerged as I roll you onto your side, shoving one hand into your stomach, desperately trying to massage the water from your lungs.
"Come on... get it out... you can do it," I urge, my voice trembling as I press deeper into your stomach. You fold forward, and small spurts of water bubble from your mouth and nose. I tap your cheek, pull your chin down to let the water drain, then quickly turn you onto your back. Small pebbles and dirt cling to your cheek and arm as you fall limply onto the ground.
"Hey. Hey, can you hear me?" I ask, my voice tight with fear as I rub your sternum with my knuckles, but there’s no response. I press my hand against your chest and lean down, my ear close to your mouth, straining to catch any sign of life.
"1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10," I count softly, my voice barely a whisper, desperately listening for something, anything. I swear I can . feel a faint flutter against my palm, but dread still tightens in my chest as I wait, hoping against hope for you to breathe.
"God damn it," I mutter, my voice cracking with panic as I tilt your head back, knowing that every second counts. I have only a small window of opportunity to make a difference. Pinching your nose shut, I seal my lips over yours, taking a deep breath and exhaling forcefully, my hand pressing hard on your chest to feel it rise. There’s a whoosh of air, and your cheeks puff out, but your chest barely moves, only rising a fraction.
I try again, desperation clawing at me as I exhale with all my might, but this time, the air comes with a wet, gurgling sound from deep within your lungs. I move quickly, my heart pounding in my ears as I swing one leg over your waist. My hands scramble to tear apart your already tattered shirt, fingers trembling with urgency as I locate the right spot.
The heel of my hand digs into your stomach, the pressure forcing the air out with a grim precision. My interlocked hands press down hard, squeezing and pushing upwards with all the force I can muster, then releasing. Each compression sends a shudder through your body, your chest rising slightly with each push, but the process is agonizingly slow. The air bubbles and gurgles, and your body is heavy and unresponsive beneath my hands.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I continue, my movements frantic. I press down, heaving with a relentless urgency, trying to force the water out of your lungs. Your body responds with involuntary convulsions, each compression accompanied by a faint, distressing gurgle. My own breath comes in ragged gasps as I fight against the encroaching sense of hopelessness, praying for any sign of life.
" Come on!" i yell out, my movements getting violent as every second passes until your whole body goes rigid, your chest jerking up and down as a flood of water escapes from your water logged body. i scramble off you, turning your head to the side and letting you cough up what seems like the whole river.
The convulsions are violent, making the sudden stillness that follows all the more horrifying. I tilt your head back and press my lips to yours, exhaling deeply into you. From the corner of my eye, I finally see your chest swell with air. You exhale weakly, and I push another slow breath into you, ensuring your chest rises and falls.
I check for a pulse again, my fingers trembling as I press against your neck, hoping for a sign of life. There’s no help around, no one else to take over. It’s just me and you, and I pray that you’ll keep breathing, that your heart will keep beating, and that you haven’t been pushed -too far.
But there’s no beat, not even a flutter—just a chilling stillness...
"You gotta fight and come back!" I shout, my voice echoing with raw urgency as I press down on your chest, my hands interlocking firmly. Your pale blue nipple protrudes from the gap between my fingers, a stark reminder of your fragility. I don’t know you, know nothing about you, but I can’t let you slip away. I refuse to give up.
I press down, and your chest caves with surprising ease. Your shoulders rock forward with each compression, and the veins on your neck stand out more with every push. You had to come back. Just moments ago, I felt the faint flutter of your heartbeat. It couldn’t end like this.
"25...26...27...28...29...30," I count, pausing briefly to give you more air. Your chest expands sharply, forming a tight slope down to your stomach. Your lips, soft and plump against mine, are icy cold, an unsettling contrast to the warmth I’m trying to give you. I will my own heat into you as I breathe another breath into your lungs before resuming the compressions.
"Come on," I urge desperately. Your chest sinks deep with each compression, and your whole body sways slightly, each movement drawing me into the rhythm of life and death. The tension in your muscles is a stark contrast to the limpness of your form, and the coldness of your skin against mine sends a shiver down my spine. Every second feels like an eternity as I fight to revive you, hoping against hope that you'll respond, that you'll fight your way back to consciousness.
Your head rolls to the side, water churning at your feet as your legs sway harshly. Wet hiccups erupt from your throat as a fine spray of water gets pushed out. "come back. " the tremor in my voice is apparent as i lean down and press my ear to your chest.
"Please...Please.." i whimper
Pulse?
Voting ended onAug 25, 2024
