*gasp* I actually wrote something!
So here's the beginning of my attempt at this. I mean, it's enough of a poking and prodding that I made the thing an icon. Don't know how far this will go, but I think I've got a good bit of this voice stirring at the moment.
Andy Washes Up
He could see Matt's hand; he could almost touch it before the ocean dragged him away. The last thing he heard before the water engulfed him was his brother's voice, crying out his name.
It felt like an eternity of chaos as the water violently pulled him along. Andy remembered the swimming safety lessons that his mother had insisted on, that incredibly good looking lifeguard reminding everyone to not swim against a strong current, all it'll do is tire you out. His mind went somewhere else entirely and he blushed when the young man looked his way. He'd been there with his family and they did not know he was bi. No one knew. And maybe no one ever will. The thought scared him and his arms suddenly flailed, gasping for air. In that moment he decided that he would refuse to get tired fighting for his life. Stone came to mind almost instantly and he got a pang of guilt. It almost felt like his fighting insulted his idol's memory. The reality of his current reality very quickly snapped him out of his thoughts. Survive now, turn guilt into an artistic homage later.
Andy tried to remember the lessons, not that they had been intended for this situation. Not that anyone anticipated this. For all his blustering will of not getting tired, he knew his body had limits, so he tried to reserve his strength, allowing the water to take him where it intended. Debris was being dragged with him; sign posts, benches, and branches would come near enough to scratch and claw but not quite close enough for him to grab hold of to use as leverage. He saw something large and metal coming his direction and he clambered to get at the right angle to catch it, but it slammed into his side, the sudden intense pain knocking the wind out of him. Moving anything on his left side hurt. Coughing as he tried to rid himself of mouthfuls of water hurt. His right arm flailed and found a rubbish bin and he grabbed hold by one of the handles. It was something to fend off the rest of the projectiles, something to help keep him afloat, if the water ever calmed enough to allow for that. But as delirium hit, he actually tried to laugh at the thought of telling his father rubbish had saved his life. Somehow, he heard his father's voice, You haven't been saved yet, you little shit.
With a start Andy's eyes flashed open as he realized he'd drifted off. It was still daylight, but time passes strangely in the belly of an angry ocean; so much swirling madness can create the illusion of both immense speed and slow motion. When he gasped for air Andy cried out as his undoubtedly broken ribs protested in agony. The ocean pulled him under, and he didn't fight; he hurt too much to waste his energy until his system had gotten used to the pain. It wasn't until the water pushed him up and forward that he wondered what had happened to the rubbish bin.
Something grazed the tops of his feet; gritty and warm. He didn't think about what it could be until the world roared around him, exploding in noise. His body was shoved and that gritty warmth clawed up his body, his mouth tasting of it and his hand filled with it as he grabbed and pulled...
Land. It was land. He fled the water on all fours even as it receded from him, coughing the salt water from his lungs until he passed out from the pain.
Andy Washes Up
He could see Matt's hand; he could almost touch it before the ocean dragged him away. The last thing he heard before the water engulfed him was his brother's voice, crying out his name.
It felt like an eternity of chaos as the water violently pulled him along. Andy remembered the swimming safety lessons that his mother had insisted on, that incredibly good looking lifeguard reminding everyone to not swim against a strong current, all it'll do is tire you out. His mind went somewhere else entirely and he blushed when the young man looked his way. He'd been there with his family and they did not know he was bi. No one knew. And maybe no one ever will. The thought scared him and his arms suddenly flailed, gasping for air. In that moment he decided that he would refuse to get tired fighting for his life. Stone came to mind almost instantly and he got a pang of guilt. It almost felt like his fighting insulted his idol's memory. The reality of his current reality very quickly snapped him out of his thoughts. Survive now, turn guilt into an artistic homage later.
Andy tried to remember the lessons, not that they had been intended for this situation. Not that anyone anticipated this. For all his blustering will of not getting tired, he knew his body had limits, so he tried to reserve his strength, allowing the water to take him where it intended. Debris was being dragged with him; sign posts, benches, and branches would come near enough to scratch and claw but not quite close enough for him to grab hold of to use as leverage. He saw something large and metal coming his direction and he clambered to get at the right angle to catch it, but it slammed into his side, the sudden intense pain knocking the wind out of him. Moving anything on his left side hurt. Coughing as he tried to rid himself of mouthfuls of water hurt. His right arm flailed and found a rubbish bin and he grabbed hold by one of the handles. It was something to fend off the rest of the projectiles, something to help keep him afloat, if the water ever calmed enough to allow for that. But as delirium hit, he actually tried to laugh at the thought of telling his father rubbish had saved his life. Somehow, he heard his father's voice, You haven't been saved yet, you little shit.
With a start Andy's eyes flashed open as he realized he'd drifted off. It was still daylight, but time passes strangely in the belly of an angry ocean; so much swirling madness can create the illusion of both immense speed and slow motion. When he gasped for air Andy cried out as his undoubtedly broken ribs protested in agony. The ocean pulled him under, and he didn't fight; he hurt too much to waste his energy until his system had gotten used to the pain. It wasn't until the water pushed him up and forward that he wondered what had happened to the rubbish bin.
Something grazed the tops of his feet; gritty and warm. He didn't think about what it could be until the world roared around him, exploding in noise. His body was shoved and that gritty warmth clawed up his body, his mouth tasting of it and his hand filled with it as he grabbed and pulled...
Land. It was land. He fled the water on all fours even as it receded from him, coughing the salt water from his lungs until he passed out from the pain.