The cliff was steep and difficult to climb. A few were saved only by being pulled by others who had already made it to the rock. So many drowned. So many died never knowing in which direction to swim to safety. In the night the water looked black, but I could make out the silhouettes of thousands of people. I was sure there were many, many more I could not see. I looked and saw only this one great rock rising out of the water. The ones that were close by were saved first. They held on to the rock as it rose out of the water. I hear a few shouting to those still in the water to swim towards to rock. Others stayed near the water and while holding on the the rock reached as far as possible to help others to safety. Still, others, so many others simply disappeared into the black water. Their heads went under. I did not see them again.
As I looked upon the rock, I became confused. Some had sat down and were complementing each other on their clothes and telling funny tales. Had these people, just saved out of darkness, begun to entertain each other? Some had formed circles and were discussing various topics. I overheard one middle aged women talking about how she missed the water and said that she wished she had stayed in the blackness; something about how she preferred the “freedom of the water?” I must have misheard. I looked and some of the ones that had originally been shouting into the water for others to come to the rock had turned and were talking to the ones already on the rock about how to enjoy their new home as much as possible. Could this be? They had turned their backs on the drowning. Few were even calling people to the rock anymore. What had happened?
My eyes were then drawn to a small group of people. A few were removing their shoes and clothes, anything weighing them down. I was intrigued and wondered what they would do next. The first one looked straight out into the water. His face stoic, but somehow joyful. He lowered this stance and took a deep breath. What I saw next I will never forget. He was in a dead sprint moving through the crowds at an incredible speed. He got closer to the edge…surly he would slow his pace. No, he was running faster as he reached the cliff’s end. As he reached the edge, he threw his arms out in front and kicked his body as far away from the rock as he could. He was falling back into the water. But, why had he done this? What was the point of entering the blackness once again? I looked again as he splashed back into the water. My eyes strained to see, for he had jumped quite a distance away from the rock and was swimming like a madman. Then I understood. He grabbed one, then two others and pointing them to the rock he screamed "there is safety on the rock." Those that still had the strength swam along side him, those who could no longer swim he kept their heads above the water dragging them towards safety. After fighting against the currents and waves, this small band reached the base of the rock and helped each other to the top. The man, dripping with water and sweat, did not slow his pace. Again he pushed his way through the crowns and flung his body back into the water…and others followed.
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