Non-Fiction Creative Writing: Swimming

Swimming has always been something I enjoyed doing. From the time I can remember up until now, I never had a fear of water. My mom even tells me that as a baby I never cried when taking a shower. However, my love for swimming became a dangerous issue around the time I was five years old. I remember going to pools and just jumping in. With eyes wide open and a mouth shut tightly, I would stare at the bubble as I slowly sank deeper and deeper. The feeling of being completely submersed in water was irreplaceable to me. Then I would see two huge hands come towards me, grab me, and pull me to the surface. Those hands were always connected to my dad. I would come out smiling but his face was always slightly pale. I guess this must have been because I actually did not know how to swim. At the age of five when I would jump in, what I considered swimming was in reality drowning. I just never knew because my dad would always come to my rescue.

As I started to do this more and more my parents realized they had to do something about it or else I would one day drown. So they signed me up for swimming classes. I was excited but quickly realized there was a lot I needed to learn. Swimming classes were something I looked forward to every week. By the end of the classes I was an expert at swimming, my parents felt more at ease, and I could continue doing one of the activities I loved.