The Last Breath

It's not that Jason's a bad driver. He's great. Maybe not awesome, but he's decent behind the wheel. It's simply that the road was frozen over. Jason'd taken the turn off the freeway, the same one he'd taken a million times. Only this time, his car skidded off the road into the lake.
I screamed as the plummeted into the freezing water.
The car started filling up immediately, and try as we might, the doors and windows wouldn't budge.

The water reached above our heads. Jason handed me a container of compressed air for filling flat tires. It's not exactly recommended to breathe compressed air, but not breathing any air is less recommended.
It felt like hours that we traded nearly useless puffs of plasticky air, but in reality it was probably less than five minutes until the bottle was nearly empty.
We both knew there wasn't enough or left for us both.

Jason pushed the canister to me, and I pushed it back to him. I didn't want to know that I might maybe survive if it was at the cost of Jason drowning in Lake Mathilda. He pushed it back to me again, a pleading in his eyes. I took the canister and sadly smiled at Jason, memorizing every detail of his face.

I pressed down on the trigger, releasing the last trickle of air. It floated away as bubbles up to the ceiling of the car. Jason's mouth opened in shock.

I clasped his hand in mine, and together we fell out of the world.

{I realize I promised you more Nate, but I can't think of anything at this moment. This was a short story laying around my short story folder on my iPod}