[And I started swimming...

]
It was in grade 6. An impending doom approached again. "Class, let's divide into
groups for this project!" The ordered stack of notebooks sitting quietly in the
corner was violently turned into a mess by the hands of a few classmates. They ran
over asking whether I would join their team. Without a second thought, I accepted.
We had some good laughs while working together and watched funny videos to
relieve some stress. In the end, we managed to finish the research section and the
only thing left was the slideshow for the next day. However, to clarify, the first
"we," was them; the second "we," was only me.
[Fatigue rushed through my arms...]
As the moon flooded the world with its sleeping beam that night, I sat alone to
finish the slides while the others retreated to their cozy beds. The next morning, the
presentation was awful. No one remembered their lines and we all squinted at the
small text that I had rushingly pasted in. After the 'reading' show ended, they
shrugged it off, saying "it will still be a good grade" then vanished into the hallway
without a word of thanks.
[I began to sink, water drowned out my vision...]
This was not the first time that this had happened. So many times, I had tried my
best to help them, yet they only viewed me as a tool always ready for their
command. I had had enough.
The ordered stack of notebooks sitting quietly in the corner was quickly turned into
a mess as the hands swirled. The culprits just ran over asking whether I would join
their team. Without a second thought, I refused.
[I tried squirming with all the power I had left...]
This was the feeling that I had been looking for all this time, the feeling that I
didn't have to constantly care about carrying a careless team. As if chains were
removed, I, finally, touched freedom. If anything disturbed my mental peace, I
would reject it. I wouldn't have to constantly think about doing others' deeds; I
would be able to play videogames as often as I wanted. I was having the time of
my life!
Sometime later, my school started a debate club and I signed up. To prepare for the
match, we had to think of every argument to defend our own stance; but,
succumbing to my hubris, any idea that my teammates brought to the discussion, I
rejected. That day, we lost the match. A checkmate.
[I stretched my arm, but it couldn't reach the surface...]
I scolded them for this loss, blinded from the truth that I had been the one in the
wrong. At the next club meeting, while everyone was crowding up to get into
teams, I was alone in the corner. Turns out, when I said no to others, they would
return me the same favor.
[Suddenly, my feet touched the floor.]
Then it struck me, the realization that being completely on either side of the yes/no
spectrum was flawed in and of itself. Why tilt the scale when I could balance it? In
other words, I forged my own way: instructing and guiding others to strive on their
own paths.
A "no" with a "yes" attitude.
[Using all the strength I had left, I jumped up as hard as I could.]
Combining the passion of the all-yes method and the boundaries of the all-no's, I
began advising them on how to grasp success with their own abilities. If they
indeed complete it, I couldn't help feeling glee that I was able to help someone
without doing it for them.
[I finally gasped for air...]
Since then, if I see anyone struggling in the middle of the pool, I yell at the top of
my lungs:
["Just sink then jump!"]