My dad was sitting by the edge of a pond and asked me and my aunt to go and bring back some paper. He made it clear he wanted regular sized sheets of paper, something that could be written clearly on as he wanted to say something important. I started to explain computers to him but turned around to get the paper. My aunt was ahead of me when I heard a noise. I turned to face the pond and no longer saw my dad. After a second or two, I realized he must have fallen in and ran back. I looked into the water, not knowing how deep it was, and saw his hand somewhat below the surface, but nothing else. I grabbed it without thinking about how I could fall in and effortlessly pulled him out of the water onto the bank. He started to say something but then his voice weakened, and I called to my aunt for help, but I don’t think she heard. I started to push on his chest, but I don’t know CPR, and my cries to her became more panic-stricken. At that moment, when I didn’t know what would happen, I woke up — feeling that it would have turned out well, although he looked terrible. I also wondered how he stayed in a vertical position in the water and didn’t sink.