Swimming

Please take the time to read this. I don't quite know if it's a story, maybe a short story, but anyways please read it.

I'm 5 years old and I'm learning to swim and I'm scared to leave the step but I reassure myself that one day I'll have enough courage to leave it. And one day I do and I slowly slip in making sure I'll reach the bottom but I'm still reaching and the water rises higher and higher every second and then I finally touch the bottom with the very top of my toe but I'm almost all the way submerged except for my nose so I can still breathe,so I can stay alive, so my presence will still exist even though no one will notice it until it's gone. I stay straining to keep my nose above water and I flail my arms around to try and find the step but I can't go back, I can never go back and I refuse to try and swim so I stay standing on my tip toes but I'm only a child and I can't stay standing forever so I sometimes go under and I'm flat on my feet so I open my eyes and look around in the thick and cold water where everything happens in slow motion and my lungs start to hurt and I can feel them start to shrivel up like when you throw a plastic bag into a burning fire. But I feel I'm too weak to go back to standing on my tip toes because by now they're bleeding and raw but somehow I arise back up with me just barely breathing, but I'm still alive right? But there's a difference between alive and living. And I'm alive but I fear I may never live. I should be happy though, right? I had a better chance winning the lottery 50 times than being born. But my start of existence didn't come without consequences, because what doesn't? I was ok when I just stayed on the step, I was happy and naive. But now, now I'm just getting by the skin on my toes, what will happen when my toes disintegrate?, will I go under forever and never again reach the top of the water?, Or will I learn to swim? But for now I'm still standing on my tip toes and have started walking closer to the deep end and no one is outside to watch me, to help me, but I don't want help, I'm stronger than that, I won't yell or scream for help, I'll be silent. But every so often they'll look out the window and our eyes will meet and mine will widen but then I look away and retain composure and they start to reach for the door handle, but quickly rethink it and make up an excuse and pretend I'm fine and they saw nothing and tend to the kids inside who got a scratch on they're arm. They realize I've never picked up my toys and they're angry because I never do anything around here. So what else would they do but yell so I pick them up but I've never left the water and they watch me making sure I don't make a mistake and when I do they yell even more, you'd think I'd be used to it right? But I'm not. I'm closer and closer to going under and I still don't know how to swim and I need lessons but I don't want them and maybe one day I'll learn on my own or maybe one day I'll sink like the titanic, the unsinkable ship, well I think you can probably predict my ending by now but I still somehow I believe in miracles and hopefully I've done enough to deserve one.