Warm and stale. Tasting of flesh and desert dust. I have no choice but to let it in. Let it spread. Replacing air with liquid. Heavy, gasping breaths with silence. I try. I really try. Thrashing. Kicking. My arms just above the surface, punching the air. But it’s useless. Nothing connects. My attacker is too quick. Too attuned to my limitations. The fight is over now. I open my eyes, struggling to see through the lingering ripples. The splashing has stopped. His face becomes clearer as the water settles. But still not clear enough. All I can make out is the determination in his eyes. The rage that contorts his features. The look of a madman. His large hands continue to press against my shoulders. Pinning me to the hard surface of the bathtub floor. If I could speak I would tell him that he can let go now. I already have. The light starts to flicker. The blackout is coming.
