The river flows swiftly, carrying away the one I'd sworn to protect. My heart beats quickly as I dash along the rocky bank. Lloyd gasps. His arm strokes, which were once effective, barely keep his head above the water. The river is insistent. It is furious. It is fast.
I must be faster.
I get as close to the water as I dare, reaching out my hand. It's not enough. Lloyd's fingers slip past mine by mere inches.
A thought pops into my head, and I try to dismiss it. Yet it doesn't leave. Time seems to slow as I stare into the black water. I try to think of another way, one that doesn't involve the river. My brain seems to shut down, like the way it always does when I need to make a decision. To me, it's the only way.
I jump.
I have a split second to think what am I doing? before the waters swallow me. It's cold and suffocating and I hate it. I fight the urge to go up -up to air and dry places- and let my body sink. Water distorts my eyesight, making the world around me a dreary gray and blurry images. Doubt creeps into my heart, and with it, fear. You can't swim, my mind whispers. What makes you think you can find Lloyd in this darkness? But I have to. I can't fail. Not now. I kick, my passion and hatred for Morro giving me strength to move forward. My hand strikes upon fabric.
Lloyd.
I pull with all my strength, bringing us together. His body is limp, and cold, and underweight, but I cling to him like my life depends on it. My head hurts from pressure and oxygen loss. My arms feel weak. My eyes burn.
But I have Lloyd. And that's what matters.
My feet touch gravel, and I instinctively kick out. We begin to go up. I can't move fast enough. Now that my mind isn't focused on saving Lloyd, my phobia has come back full force. We break the surface, and I splutter and gasp for air. I can hear someone yelling, but I don't pay any attention to the sounds. I'd done it. I'd saved Lloyd, and in doing so, faced my greatest fear.