After the first heart attack in 2007, my dad was prescribed meds. He was not taking them. After the second heart attack when he fell over in front of me in the corridor and was unresponsive for about 10 minutes, he was prescribed meds again. He was taking pills, but still he was refusing to admit himself a person with a heart condition. If I were him, I think I would’ve thought the same way. This year my dad had lots of medications not only heart pills, but they were not helping. In the morning of 15 August, 2019 (the day after his death) my mum and I entered the kitchen and the first thing she did was to put all medications into a trash bag and throw them into the cupboard, saying “I can’t see them anymore!”. That’s how they remained till I drowned them, like my distress and fears, in the water. From series What The Water took away from Me / 2019 - recently