"So," he said, sitting in his chair that looked too comfortable even to sit in. "Tell me what happened." 

"It started when I was eight, I was a bright child, I was active in my class too, I was the on the swim team, the debate team and the girl scouts. My parents were so proud and always talked about me any chance they got. Life was good." 

"So when did it happen?" He asked. 

"I was nine when it happened. I and my brothers did good in school that term so my parents decided to take us on a trip to my father's cabin. We went with our neighbours and enjoyed nature for 3 weeks. It was bliss." 

"If it was bliss, how come you are sitting in my chair?" 

"It was bliss right until it happened. I and my brother sneaked down to the lake for a swim, I was always boasting about how I was the best swimmer in the family, I beat my brothers all five times we raced in the water that night. I was in the water making funny faces at my brothers when it yanked me under."

"I didn't see what it was. I remember screaming as it yanked my legs under the water, I fought my way to the surface screaming for my brothers. They got into the water but before they could reach me, I got yanked under again. This time, it held my two legs. I couldn't breathe, I struggled to get free but it didn't let me go. It didn't." I started to sob; I could still feel the cold as I struggled for my life.

"My lungs screamed for air and I let go. Instead of death, I was confronted with a rush of air in my lungs. I could breathe under water."

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Yes you heard me right. I could breathe under water. It took me to the depths as I screamed and cried. I spent two days in the water, scared and afraid, sobbing and calling for my mommy, I remember the cold. It was so cold." 

"Then what happened?" 

"I didn't remember anything until I opened my eyes to see the doctors over me. I somehow washed up on the shore." 

"Have you gone back to the water since then?" 

"No, I haven't. I quit the swimming team after that. Water scare me a lot now, I get flashbacks while bathing and cry on the bathroom floor for hours. I'm afraid of confronting the truth that I can breathe under water." 

"Would you say you have healed of the trauma?" 

"No, I don't think I can ever heal from that." 

"Why did you think so?" He asked. 

"Because I'm am eighty year old woman who has panic attacks every time she has to take a bath." I said, looking across him, out of his window at the lake where I know it lay in wait for the day I will come back.