The water whips out beneath each stroke of the paddle. My breath quickens as my arms move faster and faster, desperately trying to escape the grasp of the beast.

The river has retreated from its once peaceful atmosphere and creates a sense of destruction in my mind. It swashes and smacks against the ridges of my kayak. As a palate of liquid stains my face with violence, I at once notice the saltiness of the sand paper like water and it consumes my senses.

I hear a thunder of broken spirits from the sky above as my boat scrambles it’s way down the river. Into the distance I start to see the clouds melt onto the land. Slowly approaching. The rain hits like rocks and makes it all the more harder to paddle. I keep going. Madly, I dart my head around to confirm I am a relative distance ahead before hopelessly cupping the rain water out of my boat and back into the river.

It was no good. The rain poured in like before and I grasp once again my paddle from my chests support. Squinting through the dizziness and fog both in my mind and in front of me, I see the depiction of a bank. Hoping behind hope that my mind isn’t playing tricks I race toward the bank.

The current speeds up in my advantage. Darting back again I take a small gasp as I see the beast gaining on me. I can almost hear it’s thoughts. The green slimy tail swooshes above the water like a bouy. Danger. With the in-pour of rain and the current splashing over the ridges, my feet disappear in to the murky water collecting in my kayak.

The fog thickens and rain turns to hail, forcing my senses to cave in. I keep on paddling with all the strength I have left. Not a lot. My arms give in and the paddle slips from the grasp of my immobile fingers. I accept doom. ThUmP. My senses reach out with a warm hand and flood back in towards me. The rush of water beneath me slows and the winds harsh swiping stops. I hit the bank. I grapple onto the shrivelling ounce of energy left inside me, finding the determination and motive to scramble out of the boat.

At once I fall forward and feel the smooth wet mud welcome my hands. My fingers claw for a grip and I feel the boat being hauled away by the current. I don’t struggle against it. As the fog clears I find the silhouette of a tree and run my fingers down the bark. I turn and let my back drag down until I am on the floor leaning on the giant. My head hits back and everything clears. Oh how it feels to breath clear again.