I want to drown in a stormy ocean bay. The roaring water throwing me against the rocky bay. I want to let the water pull me down and knock out my breath by slamming me into a rock. I want to fade from consciousness and let my mind wander through the memories of my early life. The cold waves would snap me back as I reached the surface and gained more air. The warmth of my early childhood memories would keep me from hypothermia, but wouldn’t protect me from the rocks and the crashing waves dragging me around. I would get dragged down until I can only make out a small beam of moonlight. Then I’d pass out and get slammed into a rock that would wake me enough to make it to the surface. My body would be covered in bruises and cuts and my energy would slowly run low as the pain overtook me. Suddenly, I’d gain the strength to swim toward shore. My strength and determination to live would be stripped away as the current dragged me back and I hit another rock. I would not yet feel the sweet release of death. Time would slow and I’d be left in silence with my thoughts. My painful depression would dissipate as I accept what my life amounted to. The water would seem to calm as I give up my struggle and I’d watch the light fade as I sink into the endless depths of the ocean. My eyesight would fade to black as the water fills my lungs and I lose consciousness for the final time. The medical team would rush into my hospital room as my pulse flat lines. They’d note my time of death and they would remove my dead body from the hospital room.