the world around you tastes and smells like blood. it smells like pond water. it's a horrible combination, and you know it because you inhale, and it's filling your lungs. you can't see anything - but god, you can feel everything. there's a hand in your hair, and it's gripping, gripping tight, pressing downwards, and there's water in your lungs and you are going to drown.

it burns. it burns. your eyes burn. your ears are burning. your lungs are burning - tight, tight, you can't breathe. you think that you're going to die, like this, bubbles coming out of your screaming mouth and you're so small, and so young, and so-- angry and bitter and you won't die you won't you won't -

- and then, up, you come up. you gasp for air, and you can't tell if the water streaming down your face is from the pond or tears, as your heart rattles in your ribcage and you cough, as your ears ring and the world above water looks no different from below. everything is muffled. everything is muted. then again, it was like that when you first stepped outside, wasn't it?

there's a voice. it's a familiar voice, and it says something, but you can't hear it, it's garbled and angry and it grabs onto your hair and pulls again and then throws you downwards. "Submerge yourself until you figure out how to", you catch, snarled, from the voice. you cough, again, heaving, breathing, alive, alive, alive, and the voice continues, this time so close that you're forced to hear every single word -

""Either you will learn to stand up, or you will find a place to hang yourself. the -- family would rather have no heir, than to raise a worthless child." -

and every single world drives itself into your heart like an iron nail.