Water

Her world has been pulled under again.

All she can hear are the hydraulics of the riptide slamming into her eyes, her ears, her mouth, as she rolls under her captor. Milliseconds as long as minutes pass.

She feels herself being dragged by a different force, this one more solid and dry. She sputters, sand and salt itching in her skin. The big hands, more powerful in her mind than the Pacific Ocean, set her down, straightening her suit and shifting globs of curls off of her face.

She grins upward, takes a breath, and turns around to challenge the sea anew.