Too stubborn to die

Just under eight months ago I was in Alexandria for the unorthodoxly traditional vacation with the family, originally planning to stay there for only a week; I had begun packing my bags during my final night there in preparation for my flight the next morning.
As the process neared completion, my brother enters my room and says that my mother had fallen ill and that she required our attention, and an ever tightening feeling in my chest told me that I wasn't going to catch my flight the next day because of this news, the thought struck a particularly annoying cord in my head. Pulling myself together, I shake off the annoyance and get up to see what the story is.

Skipping the finer details of illness and other pleasantries of that fateful evening, I was left with two choices after it was all said and done and my mom had finally gone to sleep:

A-Catch my flight the next day as planned, leaving family behind (They were going to catch up three days later)

B-Stay and trudge through another three days, closely observing my mother and returning to Jeddah with them.

Being put on spot by the chronological order of things when it comes to decision making is never pleasant, on one hand I had an hour left for a flight back home and three family-less days, on the other, I had an ill matriarch that, where she COULD survive without me for three days, would appreciate my choice to stay and earn familiar brownie tokens.

In Alexandria I live in a small house overlooking the beach, dawn had not yet broken and the orange hue of a peeking sun had just begun to show on the horizon.


Ignoring my nagging and outraged brain (imploring me to grab my bag and make my way to the airport) I run towards the beach, throw off my shirt and dive into the freezing water.

I began swimming, my eyes closed, face submerged, taking the occasional breath every now and again.
After about seven minutes of swimming, I stop and look towards the beach, which was barely visible due to the shrouding mist, deciding that I had swam far enough to obliterate the possibility of me swimming back, showering, get dressed and heading out in time to catch my flight, I make my way back to the beach, only to realize that I was swimming in place and that no matter how hard I tried, I would get pulled back by an abnormally powerful currant, which was only getting stronger and had begun snagging me downward, I continued to struggle against it, but to no avail, just before I was completely dragged under I managed to utter "No, no , no, no!", after which I was fully submerged, light had just hit the surface of the water and it was getting darker and darker, taunting thoughts were running rampant in my brain, "You're going to die here, aggravated and alone", yelled the quickly rebelling neurons.

I continued to sink deeper and deeper until finally hitting the sea bed, at that point I started to white out, not even frightened or panicked, but annoyed that, if indeed I were to drown, I would drown annoyed. ("Not cool" I believe the Laymen would call it)
I close my eyes as random irrelevant images fluttered by, most concerning events taking place earlier in the day, I could hear a phone call I had made to a friend back in Jeddah almost as though it were ongoing still, a loud pounding in my head quickly drowned it all out.
One final, shattering pound and I open my eyes as my feet touch the sandy bed only to notice an algae ridden rope that was probably attached to a deflated and unnoticeable buoy topside, it took me all of three seconds to grab it and pull myself against the current towards what adrenaline told me was an inevitable surface, as the light got closer my already burning lungs had long given up and felt as though they were on the brink of implosion.
The lifetime it seemed to take for me to hit the surface was now over, I broke through and took an immense gasp of air, the sun peeking through the clouds, everything so still, I could now see one or two figures walking along the beach, they did not notice me and I did not bother addressing them, the currant had left me, I absentmindedly began making my way back to the shore, dragged my feet along the cold, damp sand, did not bother picking up my shirt, walked into the house, ignored my brother and sister as they spoke to me in passing, entered my room and lay on my bed.

When one completely destroys the possibility of an obviously favored option being chosen, the other, less pleasant one, wins by default and not because one wills or prefers it.

Three more days, old boy.