The water was dark. The kind of dark that seemed bottomless, sure to have monsters lurking in the deep. Every time my paddle dipped into its murky depths and stirred through the ripples I imagined a hand angrily ripping it from my hands.

As I fought desperately to paddle faster, I whispered a plea for understanding. I did not wish to disturb any resting spirits but I needed to escape, I could hear in the distance, they were getting closer.

Traveling the river was a risk, the creatures that claimed this particular water were known to be territorial and vicious, but I was counting on that to perhaps deter my chasers. It would hopefully seem not worth the risk to come after me, I would probably die anyway.

Still I would rather be pulled under to meet my end with the fish and frogs than go back. I will never go back.