Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. I can’t think clearly. The water splashes onto the boat with each paddle fiercly plummeting into the river as I try to increase the distance between us.

As I glance back, their silhouette sails boldly behind me, stark against the sunset in the background. The calm before the storm.

I face back in front, breathing out short puffs of airs, the wispy mist of my breath clinging to any warmth it finds. Why is the bank so far away? My muscles stiffen with each movement, weighing heavy at my sides. I need to disappear, to hide where they won’t find me.

When I look back this time, there is no boat chasing me. No group of people shouting profanities at me. Nothing.

The silence pulsates in my ears as I look from left to right, front to rear. My knuckles, white, as they grasp the oars tighter, not moving them, not moving anywhere.

A gunshot crashes the wall of stillness down, birds screaching from the trees in the distance. Another shot, and this time the bullet breaks the surface of the water to my left. I duck, my knees grazing against the rough wood of the boat. Another shot. Another bullet sinks into the water.

I’m frozen, no where to hide, no-one I can call for help. I’m certain this is the end.