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The water mightn’t seem that deep from your vantage point on the bank, but the enshrouding darkness makes it very hard to judge
the depth of the river. With great hesitance, lessened only by the thought of your cast, you slide into the river, hoping that the water
won't come above your waist. Luck is not on your side. You flail, failing to find the bed of the swirling, freezing river. In an attempt to
escape the murky depths, you claw and grasp for the grassy water bank, your nails scratching in vain at the rocky bank. You don’t
register the pain. You fail to stay above the ice-cold water and your vision blurs. Your senses are on overdrive, your lungs slowly fill
with water. You gasp for air, finding nothing. It’s dark. You can’t find the surface. You hope that your incessant struggle for survival
will alert someone,
anyone
to your situation. Blackness fills your vision. You won’t ever find the children now. No one will find you,
either.
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