Suffocating. The world was closing in on me, settling deep into my chest. It was so hard to breathe. My lungs were collapsing in on themselves, my head pounding, my limbs lead.

My body moved to the whims of the world, the tide dragging me to and fro uncaringly. Status meant nothing here. The water had no mercy on a fool, no matter how they got to it, no matter what they would leave behind.

The hot-and-cold grip of fear clenched at me as time stretched, seconds turning into years, years into eternity. I would die here, drowning, no one to find my body so far, far beneath the ground.

These would be my last moments.

I had always imagined my demise to be boring - typical. Something like a car crash, or a malfunctioning elevator, or a faulty surgery. Tragic, but nothing new. Merely a statistic, something that maybe 50 people would read before promptly forgetting and moving on with their lives.

Of course, I hoped for something exciting. I wanted to die a martyr, to have my soul go on in other people's words and actions, to inspire others, to teach of a better way.

More specifically, I wanted to bring awareness to how we were ruining the world. I wanted to bring awareness to the plastic crisis, how we were killing animals just because plastic was easier than lifting your hands to clean a glass. Less fragile, they would say, easier to throw away.

'They' were despicable, in my mind.

I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to go down in history as someone that helped save the world. Sure, there was the potential that I'd be hated, maybe I would have even been targeted by major companies with more dirt under their rugs than on the actual earth. 

But I wanted to see change, to inspire others to live. And, as I'd always rationalize when times got tough, history isn't kind to those on the wrong side of progress.

I had wanted to grow famous, and die defending what I believed in.

And, I had already completed one part of that wish. It was grim, but I'd be okay dying here.

But, would I?

O-Clea's designated to the North Pacific started to dive down, no doubt having been notified by the large explosion of my organization's ship. The sight was beautiful, in a way.

I hovered in the water. Neither sinking or swimming. Neither dying or living. Just... at a standstill.

I could fulfill my dream right now. I could let the air escape my lungs, and die the death I've always dreamt of.

But there was still so many people I had to reach, so much plastic I had to oversee the cleaning of, so many laws I had yet to pass. I still had to extend my message out into the world, and see the changes through.

I had to watch this planet thrive. Live.

And so, I kicked my legs and stretched my arms out in hope.