She held her breath and dove. Dove for all she could. For all she was worth.

The water was her home, her peace, her sanctum. She was at ease there. Calm. Collected. When she was under, it was her world, her time, her energy.

It had been a rough week - the weather seeming to play off the emotion. As the days grew heavier and longer, the skies grew darker and thicker. As tempers flared, the lightning burned the sky and the thunder shook the atmosphere.

The coastline had become black. It rained almost everyday, the clouds hovering over the ocean, not far from the beach churned and pulsated, waiting for the right moment to erupt their fury on the island.

She had finally had enough. Had enough of home, of people, of him. She grabbed her board and ran towards the waves that were eating away at the beach, taking large swaths of sand back into the deep with every crash.

They chased after her, screaming for her not to go in. It was too dangerous. Too dark. Too unpredictable.

The moment she entered the water, the clouds knew it was their time. They surged toward the coast, riding a cold sweep of air, erupting as they charged - throwing down rain that pounded the waves below. When she looked up she had to squint. Sitting on her board, she had to stop and take a deep breath.

The waves were becoming larger and she was becoming increasingly smaller.

She held her breath and dove. Dove for all she could. For all she was worth.

Below it was silent. The water swirled around her, the bubbles from the waves above teased at her hair. The rain no longer sounded like the heavens falling, but a steady drum roll on a snare drum.

She was at peace, in her world.

Her lungs burned as she stayed below. She didn't want to surface.

She didn't want to breath.