30/08/2025
Shallow waters
“Why are you so quiet?” my friend asked, nudging me as a debate stirred in our circle about whose side we should take.
I shifted uneasily — it was one of those conversations where a small round table with friends transforms into an infinite, shapeless ocean, crashing with wild waves and threatening depth.
Their concerned voices lured me toward the rocky shore, inviting me to swim with them. Still wary, I clung to the thought of safety in their arms.
“How could you not agree to this?” The illusion of comfort seemed perfect, but the sharpness in their voices cut through. My friends urged me to open my mouth and speak.
The coast fell silent as soon as I complied with their seemingly innocent request. A chill ran down my spine under their cold stares. Nothing could prepare me for what they did next.
They gripped my neck, leaving me voiceless. I tried to focus on what was happening, but their faces and voices began to distort. I no longer saw my friends — only sirens in their place. The others laughed as they watched me struggle for something to say.
Is this my punishment for swimming against their current — for siding with the one they tried to drown?
The only way to get away from these shallow beings was to challenge their suffocating morals. I defended myself and swam deeper.
The current slowly swallowed me as I made my way toward its mouth. I glanced back — it was only their arms that could urgently slice through the water. But soon, their movements grew weaker. Little by little, they stopped…
They could not take the depth and vastness of the ocean, perhaps not even the full truth of the subject. One by one, they gave up and remained among the shallow waters, where they could only look down on me.
Could they not take the pressure? The darkening, numbing, clenching pain that, in turn, reveals the deepest and most important part of these waters? How could they look down on me when they cannot even put themselves out on the line to reach for those who drown?
Regardless, I am not alone. There are others who tread these waters with courage, reminding me I am not the only one who chooses to dive this deep.
I swam back above where they were waiting. They did not dare approach me, knowing I was stronger than before.
Slowly coming back to the shore with their gaze piercing my back, I was no longer a victim of their siren song. I would rather let the scars they left on our friendship remain than give them my voice to feed on again — among the rocks, the only thing keeping them alive.
Written by: Anne Zeta R. Orden
Illustrated by: Angelyn D. Oliverio
