My girlfriend had just dumped me. She didn’t even give me the courtesy of telling me to my face, just a text message. Maybe I could have forgiven that, breakups are hard, if she hadn’t waited until the day of our floating trip. Hell, I would have forgiven her if she at least told me before I had gotten to the goddamn river.
I didn’t even want to go floating that early in June, but no, she “couldn’t wait to go.” I was even taking her to my favorite entrance spot. One of the few that hadn’t been overrun by Californians. A lot of the locals didn’t even know about it. She knew how special this spot was to me, but she insisted on bringing a couple of her friends anyway. Thinking back on it, I almost want to laugh. What a perfect encapsulation of everything wrong with our relationship.
I almost got back in my car and left, since her friend’s car obviously wouldn’t be waiting down the river now. But I couldn’t stop thinking about all the work that had been ruined. A bitter thought finally pushed its way through. Fuck her. She’s not ruining another thing for me. I decided I would just call one of my friends for a ride after I was done.
After spending an embarrassing amount of time putting on my life jacket, I wasted more daylight untying my tube from my girlfriend’s tube. I waded into the water. It took me a few tries to jump onto my tube, thanks to drinking the beers meant for four people, but soon enough, I was gliding down the river. The water was a lot higher, and faster, than I was used to, but I was too busy wallowing in my misery to care.
Maybe if I wasn’t thinking about the time she forgot my birthday, I would have noticed the fallen tree in the river. But I didn’t. Not until my feet hit the trunk. Then I had one moment of pure terror knowing what was about to happen, before the current sucked my tube, with me in it, under the water.
Pain and panic filled me as I flailed. I had forgotten to hold my breath before I went under, and I was paying for it dearly. I was sure that was the end. My life jacket was doing its job though. I was floating upwards, even as the current pushed me forward.
Finally I emerged. It took a few moments to cough water out of my lungs, before I could start crying in earnest. I was a good five minutes into it when it struck me that something was horribly wrong. I wasn’t moving. I was submerged in the water up to my chest, but the current wasn’t moving me. When I looked around, I was surrounded on all sides by tree branches.
The life jacket had saved my life, but it got snagged in the branches of the tree. I tried my hardest to free myself. However, it soon became clear that the only way I was getting out was to unclip the life jacket. I wasn’t a horrible swimmer, but undoing the vest could be a death sentence. I could easily be swept under again, with nothing to help me back to the surface. I might have been able to risk it, if I hadn’t drank so much.
Faced with the hopelessness of my situation, I screamed for help. I knew that there was nobody close enough to hear, but I just kept screaming and screaming anyway. After what felt like hours, I finally gave up. The physical strain of it all, mixed with the alcohol, was finally taking its toll. I wanted to close my eyes so badly. I gave in, figuring that the life jacket would stop me from drowning in my sleep.
When I woke up, it was dark. The time passed out seemed to sober me up. Though all that accomplished was sending a new wave of panic through me, as I was able to better comprehend how fucked I was. I was feeling every ache, bruise, and scratch that the tree had given me. The worst of the pain was in my ankle. I grimly wondered if it had gotten twisted as I was jostled underwater.
It had been a nice day, but hours in the water had taken their toll. I was unbearably cold, and I didn’t have much time left before hypothermia kicked in. Despite all this, I couldn’t muster up the courage to unclip myself from my life jacket. Memories of breathing in the water flashed every time I touched the clips. I was gearing up for another round of useless screaming, but before I could, I felt something brush my foot.
I bent my knees and tucked my feet as high as I could in my trapped position. Then I stared in the water, trying to find the culprit. After a minute passed, my fear was replaced by embarrassment. I told myself I was in a river, of course there are going to be fish or branches passing through. I let myself straighten my leg.
As soon as I did, something wrapped itself around my ankle and squeezed. I tried to lift my foot back up, but the thing started pulling my leg downwards. At that moment, I knew I had two choices. Either be dragged below, or be swept away. I chose the latter.
I tore at the clips of my life jacket and dived forward. The force of the dive, combined with the force of the river, wrenched my foot out of its grip. I tried with all my might to swim sideward, but I wasn’t as sober as I thought I was. Every kick was a fight to stay above water, and I failed more than once.
Against all odds, I made it to the bank. Waves of relief rushed through me. I curled into myself and sobbed. The shaking of my body forced me to stand. I wasn’t sure if it was from the adrenaline or the cold.
Luckily, I landed on the same side of the river as the tree, which meant I didn’t have to cross the river again to get to my car. The trees and bushes were thick, and my bikini was poor protection from the scratches and scrapes. I was determined though, and kept a steady pace, until I saw the fallen tree.
I didn’t want to believe that something was there. I wanted to dismiss the pain in my ankle like I did before. But despite all my faults, I do have one thing going for me. I learn my lessons.
I ran past it as fast as I could, ignoring the branches hitting my face. When I looked behind me, the tree was nowhere in sight. Within that same second, my foot connected with a root, and I tumbled to the ground. I silently thanked god that I didn’t break anything, and dragged myself to my knees. That’s when I heard the splash.
I bolted. I never looked back, and I never even glanced to my side. I heard heavy thuds behind me. More splashes came, and after them, the thuds grew louder and louder.
I couldn’t tell you how long I ran, because it wasn’t really me running anymore. In that moment, the only thing inhabiting my body was instinct.
To this day, I don’t remember finding my car. I only remember pulling my keys out of the dash. Though what came next is the most vivid memory I have. I pulled into a gas station, and shined my phone’s flashlight on my throbbing ankle. It was covered in bruises shaped like handprints.