The Pool Here

Leo hesitated. He remembered the last time—the sudden panic of sinking , the "greedy" feeling of the water climbing up his chest, and the way the world turned into a muffled, distorted blur. His heart hammered against his ribs, a nervous system response his brain recognized as "freeze". The Choice

He looked down at his bright yellow pool noodle tucked under his arm—his "safety gear". For a second, he thought about retreating to the snack bar, where the only danger was a brain freeze from a blue raspberry slushie. But then he saw a younger kid, barely five, splash into the shallow end with a fearless laugh. The Pool

Leo watched his older brother, Marcus, execute a perfect front flip off the diving board. Marcus surfaced with a triumphant shout, shaking water from his hair like a wet dog. "Come on, Leo! The water's great!" Leo hesitated

Slowly, he lowered himself down the metal ladder, rung by rung. When the water reached his waist, he paused, waiting for the panic. It didn't come. Instead, he felt a strange sense of weightlessness. He let go of the ladder and kicked his legs, just like he’d practiced in his head. The Choice He looked down at his bright

Leo took a breath, inhaling the scent of chlorine and summer. He didn’t jump. Instead, he sat on the edge first, letting his feet dangle into the ice-cold water. It wasn't a monster; it was just cold. The Plunge

The sun hit the surface of in sharp, diamond-like glimmers, making the water look more like a solid sheet of glass than a place to swim. Ten-year-old Leo stood at the very edge of the concrete, his toes curling over the rough, sun-baked rim. To everyone else, this was just the neighborhood spot to cool off; to Leo, it was a blue monster he hadn't yet learned to tame. The Threshold

By the time the afternoon shadows began to stretch across the deck, Leo wasn't just standing in the pool—he was moving through it. The "blue monster" had become his sacred space . As he surfaced for air, he realized the biggest challenge wasn't the depth of the water, but the height of the fear he’d finally stepped over. Therese Spruhan - Writing NSW