Lizzie
IhissasI reach for the back of my head and blink spots from my vision. I wince and sputter as rain falls into my eyes and mouth. I’m so wet, it’s like I’ve just broken the surface from a deep-sea dive.
“What in the?”
The last thing I remember is hurrying towards Caleb’s place. I’d gotten a cab from the airport but when the driver worried about turning his car back up the track in the mud, I’d let him go. I know the way and it isn’t far when you know what you’re doing.
A whole lot further now, I think, trying to look around me. Where the hell am I?
“Flat on my back in the mud,” I answer myself out loud. I spit the water that rushes into my mouth.
I twist to look above me but gasp as pain shoots up my leg. I tug on my foot but feel pressure and resistance. A root twists around my ankle. I can’t escape, and when I try to kick it away, agony shoots up my calf.
“Goddammit…” I hiss.
To make matters worse, the angle of my foot has me caught on the sloping ground. My upper body is dangerously close to the slew of water that’s rushing by with serious speed. And my face is about a foot away from it.
Okay, that’s not good.
I kick at the root again, this time losing my balance and sliding further down the slope until my head is lower than my feet. My ankle pierces with pain over the new angle. My face is now just inches from the rushing rainfall.
I instantly brace myself and remain still.
I swallow and remind myself that I need to stay calm. To just breathe and think through a new tactic for getting away from that water. I strain my neck away from the stream, and bury my hands under my butt. Taking handfuls of wet leaves and dirt, I push the mulch further down the slope.
I manage a few handfuls before the lump of dirt under my ass loses its grounding and starts to shift.
“Whoa!” I splay my arms, stopping myself as I begin to slide. I take a deep breath. “You’ve got this. Don’t panic.”
Slowly, I carry on building the platform under my butt, bringing my body back in line with my feet. It feels like ages, but eventually the angle on my foot is less severe and my leg stops screaming at me.
“See that?” I pant to myself. “That’s what we call resourcefulness.”
I have to spit again or choke on rainwater, but talking out loud is helping. It’s keeping my mind from going to all those dangerous, horrific scenarios. It’s keeping me focused.
And the one thing I’m focusing on, is not surrendering to a bunch of trees. Rain is not going to stop me.
“I don’t care what you throw at me,” I yell into the woods. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m here and I’m not leaving!”
East River is home now. It doesn’t matter how much I’d tried to keep things at bay, to keep Caleb at bay. I know the way Mrs. Jensen at the grocery store likes to bounce her fingers over the till. I know how Jace Winters has been enraptured by a girl he’s known but never seen for years.
And I know what it feels like to fall asleep in the arms of Caleb Walker.
“This is my home. You are not running me out of it.”
Then again…
I look at the water beneath me, horrified at how much it’s climbed. I’ve built myself a platform to get away from it, but it’s still no further from me. And it’s rising every minute. The edge of the stream is now lapping at my hip.
I tilt my head as far from the stream as I possibly can, close my eyes and take deep breaths.
Don’t panic.
The rain continues to pour down. Each drop is like a bullet on my skin. They chill me through to the bone.
Don’t panic.
The stream rises to my navel. The side of my breast is now underwater. I twist again, trying to keep my head and shoulders out of its reach.