My lungs burned as water came over me. You’re not going to make it, a voice whispered in my head.
Shut it, I snapped at the voice. I fought against the current but it was too strong especially with a bleeding knee and elbow.
Memory of the night came flooding back to me. I remembered studying in my room and there’s a knock. I remembered waking up in the backseat of my ex-boyfriend’s car, hands bound loosely with a rope. I remembered breaking free of the ropes and diving out of the car.
I inhaled a large gulp of water and air and grabbed a branch at the side of the stream and held on. My grip was slipping.
“Don’t come any closer.” I remembered saying at the edge of the cliff.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He pleaded.
I scoffed. “Like I believe that.”
He extended his arm to me, “Come here.”
“I rather die.” I hissed. He took a step forward and unconsciously, I took a step back.
You’re getting close now, just hold on, said that voice once more in my head.
I closed my eyes and thought, I know, letting my fingers slip from the branch.
On each Sunday, a new photo is used as a prompt in a flash fiction challenge, writing a short story around 200 words or so based upon the photograph.