A/N: Oh, wow. I thought I'd be shot right out this fandom. Glad to see I was wrong (so far...) Now, I've not seen the movie yet. I've only heard Jack's "death-scene" from my cousins, so if something is off, I am terribly sorry; I'm just working with what I have.
CreCra- I added the demon thing in because my grandparents once told me the Angel of Death is actually a demon; and that he works for Lucifer. I honestly don't really look into religious stuff that much, so I don't really know if what they think is true. Oh, and to your question about whether this is about Jack's Death/Guardianship/Other, I shall say "all of the above". Sorry if I'm confusing you more.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians (Dreamworks Animation does) or The Art of Drowning (Billy Collins does).
I wonder how it all got started, this business
about seeing your life flash before your eyes
while you drown, as if panic, or the act of submergence,
could startle time into such compression, crushing
decades in the vice of your desperate, final seconds.
After falling off a steamship or being swept away
in a rush of floodwaters, wouldn't you hope
for a more leisurely review, an invisible hand
turning the pages of an album of photographs-
you up on a pony or blowing out candles in a conic hat.
How about a short animated film, a slide presentation?
Your life expressed in an essay, or in one model photograph?
Wouldn't any form be better than this sudden flash?
Your whole existence going off in your face
in an eyebrow-singeing explosion of biography-
nothing like the three large volumes you envisioned.
Survivors would have us believe in a brilliance
here, some bolt of truth forking across the water,
an ultimate Light before all the lights go out,
dawning on you with all its megalithic tonnage.
But if something does flash before your eyes
as you go under, it will probably be a fish,
a quick blur of curved silver darting away,
having nothing to do with your life or your death.
The tide will take you, or the lake will accept it all
as you sink toward the weedy disarray of the bottom,
leaving behind what you have already forgotten,
the surface, now overrun with the high travel of clouds.
They were sliding around on the surface of the lake, and I slowly began to relax. The ice seemed to be holding up well enough, so there was no sense in not having some fun as well.
"Jack, race you to the Tree!" That was one of Charlotte's friends, Sara.
"I'll give you a head start, or you won't stand a chance!" That certainly was true; no one could beat me when it came to skating.
"Fine!" She started off a little shaky, but soon managed to straighten out.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Ready or not, here I come!" Shoving off, I rapidly gained ground. "Coming up on your left!"
I was just reaching out to tap the tree's trunk when I heard the scream. Whirling around, my blood turned to ice. Charlotte was plopped on the ice, a spider webbing of fractures blossoming underneath her. "Jack, I'm scared!"
"Don't worry... Everything will be alright..." If anyone can hear me now, take me instead! "Let's play a game."
I gripped my shepherd's crook tightly with one hand, untying my skates with the other. My eyes never left her's.
"One..." I took a tentative step towards her, holding my breath as cracks appeared under my foot.
"Two..." Luckily, I found a part that was more solid than the rest. I put my whole weight on it, nearly loosing my balance in the process.
"Three." She was just out of my reach. "Now it's your turn. You'll be fine, I promise."
"O-okay..." She hesitantly stepped out, and I winced as the ice cracked more under her weight. Two quick steps, and I had her hooked around the middle with my staff. I swung her towards the lakeshore, but my relief was short-lived.
"Oh, yes. I shall indeed take you in her place..." A voice whispered in my ear, and then the ice gave out beneath me.
After the initial shock of the icy cold water, I struggled to get back to the surface. My head emerged for a few moments, but I was being dragged down by something. Fighting upwards again, I grabbed onto the edge of the ice shelf.
"Jackson! Hold on, I'll get you out of there!" I could barely hear my father over my frantic attempts at staying above the surface. The ice was fragmenting each time I grasped at it, almost like some force was trying to make me drown.
I swallowed water. So much water... Darkness was closing in on my vision, but I couldn't die. Not now! I wanted to scream, but water only rushed into my open mouth. Why can't I die at a later point of time?
"Is that your wish?" There, that voice again. A pair of red eyes, then nothingness...