这只是我的一篇英语作文，如果有大佬给些建议什么的，非常感谢，特别是词汇谢谢(7)

I struggled in the water trying to breathe the precious air. Meanwhile, I was shouting out Moltzia’ s name attempting to find her. I was coughing out water, almost drowning. The music now changed into a much more delightful rhythm. I knew Nacken was just behind me, enjoying the view, the process of me getting drowned. There was another voice moaning and begging. It was the Poor Corgan, but this time with a completely fresh skin. Her eyes twinkling and shining, also reflecting my fear, my struggle. I suddenly realised that she was Mortzia. Her crystal necklace was just above the rusty heavy chain that tied up her head. The Poor Corgan would only be suffered, tortured by the pain, by the time until the next person substituted the initial one. It was forced to beg for sympathy from the passers in order to trap one of them which could bring the final relief to its soul from the endless torturing and suffering. However, the substituted would suffer the same and eventually find others to replace as well. It would be an endless cycle. There wasn’ t anything left for me to do, only to escape and to remember poor Moltzia, the Poor Corgan. I felt guilty, I felt sorry. I just didn’ t save Moltzia. I didn’ t even turn my head to look at Corgan again afterwards, hearing these moans, begs behind. My tears were mixed with the fierceful water, my feet were sore, but it wasn’ t the time to stop. These moans kept in my mind, in my head all the time. I headed straight without any hesitation, using all effort struggle to the shore while the music got weaker and weaker. Even when I managed to reach the shore by dawn, I still reckoned there was a Poor Corgan, poor Moltzia just behind moaning at me, gazing at me, begging at me to just help her a bit, help her get out from the endless darkness, tortures, and suffering. I was saved by the fishermen, and since then I always wonder why it was me not Moltzia to be saved. Why?”