First Person POV:
The river had turned to mud, oozing along with the viscosity of honey. I paused, looking at the brown substance and again over my shoulder. It was my only escape, and I knew it was better to chance the river than face what was following me — so I let it carry me away. Surrounded by the darkness, I still felt apart from the polluted stream. I was following its course, but I was not one with it, and it somehow secured my heart — even as the organ lurched when I fell over the waterfall. I braced for the impact, wondering if this was the moment of death, only to open my eyes to a clearing stream and my feet firmly beneath me.
— H. Danielle Crabtree