By S.E. Gordon
My earliest memories are of water. Cold, frigid water stabbing at my throat like knives, and weighing me down on the swimming pool floor below.
I died that day. Briefly. A few moments, nothing more.
In those anguished moments, as my mother worked my chest, pumping out the essence that had snatched life from me, I saw him. His golden hair was long and flowing. Like mine, in fact, but a shade brighter. His skin was glowing, smooth and firm to the touch. As my fingers grazed him, he turned and looked at me.
Seaborn eyes gazed through me. There was not a hint malice, only curiosity. The angel in the apartment swimming pool—how did he get here? I hadn’t noticed him till my life flickered, eyes drawing to a close.
He did not offer a hand. No, he had something more to offer.
Instead, he offered his lips to my virgin mouth. A final breath, a breath of life, kept me in the realm of the living a while longer.
He drew back, eyeing me with that same puzzled look. I must have opened my eyes then, fully taking notice of him. As I looked into his, I wondered if I was in the pool at all.
My saving grace was but a kiss. My very first kiss!
Water erupted from my mouth like a geyser. I coughed the swimming pool back out of my lungs. The afterworld could not have me, not just yet. The stranger had made sure of it. Another cough, more choking, and then some crying. So much crying, but it didn’t come from me. “Oh, thank heavens!” Momma weeped, thanking her mysterious savior that she prayed to over and over, and wondering what she’d ever do without her only daughter, the one precious thing she had in her life.
I lay there on the concrete lip of the pool, gazing at the sun overhead. There were no clouds, nothing to prevent my ascension to the above. “It’s ok. I’m still here.” I touched her arm. “Everything’s going to be all right, momma. Everything...” Consciousness slowly drifted from me.