It was several seconds before I remembered that I couldn't swim. I sank lower and lower into the water; my arms above my head, and I felt so free... like nothing could hurt me.

In the water I was far away from everything and anyone; this stupid camp, the counselors... and Brett, who had unwittingly broken my heart in two.

As hard as I could, I pushed my way to the surface, gasping in huge breaths when I finally broke though the water and saw sunlight.

But then I had to struggle to stay afloat and suddenly I was terrified.

I began to sink lower and lower in the water making it almost impossible to move my arms.

I thrashed around, unable to breathe. Until that moment, I didn't know what the word terrified meant, and was pretty sure it was impossible to cry underwater, but I was so wrong.

Water poured inside of me and I tried to cough but could barely even breathe.

I was more scared than I'd ever thought possible. Was I going to die?

Suddenly I felt someone grab my waist and I felt myself rising to the surface. I couldn't open my eyes, but I could tell that the light had gotten brighter.

I could hear panic-stricken voices as though something had happened.

Was I dead? Was I dreaming?

This was not the way I expected my life to end.

After all, I was only seventeen.

And that was much too young to die.