Trusted because I was a good swimmer, not a brave swimmer, I perched unchaperoned on my grandparents’ dock. Today would be the day I swam to the island and back alone – flipper-less and goggle-less. Peering into the murky lake water, a montage played back at me.
Blue whales swallowed me whole; undead pirates latched onto my tender ankles, yanking me downward; the navy water suddenly became acid, leaving only a singed skull.
Shoving my fantastical fears aside, I dove in and swam faster than I ever had in an effort to get to the island before my breath and brain could catch up.
And when I surfaced and pried my eyes open, there were no monsters below my toes, just a forested island before me.
