Just Keep Counting

Cave diving seemed like an adventure. I had no real experience with it, my guide was an expert himself.

We went for a complex underwater cave system that was known to claim lives. My guide and instructor reassured me that we would be taking a simple and plotted out route, one he had taken many times.

When the time came for the dive, we took the usual diving equipment, did the routine checks, everything seemed ready.

I don’t know at what point we got lost, we hadn’t taken into account the murky darkness of the depths, the choking tunnels of the caves, or the cold.

We were running out of air, trapped now in a winding, twisting labrynth of dead ends and deeper drops into nothingness.

Diving slates were the only way to communicate. “Just keep counting” he wrote, meaning for me to count “1,2,3” then inhale, count again, then exhale. This was to help conserve oxygen and keep an even head.

Once the flashlights died, we were left in the dark where many had perished before. As I counted over and over, I see a shriveled face appearing in the depths below me, slowly rising closer and closer.

"1,2,3,4,5,6-"……

I know I should stop screaming, not much air is left. But as I’m pulled deeper and deeper down, my ears ringing and popping from the growing pressure, I can’t help but start counting again, only this time, it’s not for my breathing, it’s the large amount of rotting shriveled faces that are appearing out of the dark.

—
Credits to: dastard82