Hey, anyone willing to proofread this? I might have missed some stuff.

He had dropped the hatchet. The only tool he had, and the last gift his mother gave him before that horrible crash. He looked down and watched his treasure sink to the bottom of the lake. That wasn't the only thing sinking now, his hope was sinking like the Titanic. Brian floated there in shock as a current pushed him towards the plane.

He had to get the hatchet back. He dove down and kicked and kicked to touch the bottom and try to find the hatchet, nothing. He was getting weak, and just barely made it to the top, breathing in gulps of air. That was a close one, he thought. Another mistake that could have cost him his life. He was fuming, angry at himself for making that mistake. He thought for a while, sitting on his raft. He was going to get that hatchet!

He dove down with determination, too much determination. He was so close to the floor he opened his mouth and swallowed a gulp of dirt, sand, and lake water. He lost too much time, and he looked to see the hatchet a few feet to the right. He dashed faster than a cheetah to grab that hatchet, he was underwater too long... he was almost out of air.

Grabbing the hatchet, he tried to kick up to the surface, only to hear a muffled "Clang!" and be met with a sharp pain in his head. He had dropped the hatchet again and had fallen to the bottom of the lake. He was out of time. He tried to breathe only to gulp in more water, and he struggled until he was too weak to move... The inky blackness of sleep took him, only this time it was forever.