Chaos.

All I can hear is chaos.

People screaming, 

People shouting.

My head bops above the water and someone calls my name. 

Then I'm under again and everything is silent.

It's a dull silence that threatens to consume me.

It fills my every being until I'm not sure I'll ever hear again.

The chaos of the world goes numb and the only sound I can hear is the rhythmic thumping of my legs as they pound through the water.

The harsh light of the sun leaves my eyes and all I can see is blue.

Through the water my hand thrashes. 

Why is it doing that? 

A word comes to mind.

Drowning. 

I'm a child, drowning in the harsh words of my parents.

I'm a teenager, drowning in the stress of becoming a man.

I'm a man, drowning in the cancer that fills my body. 

I'm a sick man, drowning in the ocean that I have chosen as my final resting place. 

My head bops above the water and I see my friends.

They call my name,

They reach out to me.

I dn't take their hand. 

They don't want this for me,

But when did they start deciding when I die?