Gasping for air, all I see is red. The water surrounds me, yet I don’t feel like I’m drowning. Again - up - and again, gasping for air. Isn’t it funny how we can feel torn from our homes, everything we’ve known, at a moment’s notice? Life is cruel that way, I’ve found. I’ve seen people close to me hooked away by something or other clutching at their minds. Now, it seems, it’s my turn to succumb.

I feel his grip around me, holding me like a barrel of trash. I bounce, thrown down on a counter. This ending seems all too familiar; I’ve heard of this in legends, myths whispered by my parents and elders. Now, it seems, it’s my turn to be sliced and eaten.