POV:
I could hear the horses panicking as the one to the right of the carriage suddenly hit me at a full trot. I heard something on me give a sickening crack before a jolt of pain flew up my arm. I had barely anytime to register it as the horse to the left of the harness hit me when I was suddenly forced over into its path by the first horse.
Now carriage horses need to be strong, especially when they are pulling barrels of water from the Seine River. Horses with broad shoulder span, tough and well cared for hooves with carefully mended shoes. Their forelegs could not be thin, needing the broad muscles for going up or down hills. Specific training and well broken horses of this status also need to be able to run, although their main use is for riding short distances fast. Well-breed horses such as these come from descendants of the warhorses used in medieval times. Powerful and head-strong runners are what hit me, sending me spiraling far off the road and causing my descent into a dark oblivion bellow me.
I had not even resisted, my body had been motionless until the first horse hit me, then the second. Their abilities call for running and obeying the slaying orders of a man with their reins in his hands. It had been his fault, not theirs. But either was I was thrown by the impact. The sloped side hill leading down to the Seine River, which eventually empties out into the English Channel, carried my unresisting and shell-shocked body downward. I could admit no noise through the trauma I had just underwent, I could fell the damp grass thinning out underneath me to give way to stone and steel.
My genius had abandoned me in that one moment as did my common sense to try and stop myself from plunging down into the bleakness of the dark yawning that was that fated river. Whoever had hit me either did not care or figured duty came above a sin that no one else had seen besides the one he had hit.
It was then my mind came back to me, what at a time too. I had no use for that genius as I felt the weightlessness for that split second as the ground disappeared underneath me and I was thrust into the deepening darkness. The ice cold water pushed its first impact straight through my chest as if there was a hole there. Whether the hole was from a wound made by the horses or by the empty fragments of a fragile heart once there, the water went through mercilessly. I could feel every ache and pain then. The water enhancing the pain up my arm which must be broken or dislocated and I felt cuts I had not realized were there and must have been the cause of the stricken blow from the brawn of the horses.
Soon I was submerged in the black waters, a current sweeping me further down; spiraling it took me as if I was nothing more than a rag doll. A dull aching of warning hit my lungs as the stale air of my last breath soon was deflated. My eyes could see nothing, and my only working arm was trying desperately to heave me to the surface. I could not tell if I was right side up or upside down. The torrents of the water increased in pressure and I knew I was plummeting deeper into the river as it continued along. Unheeding to the poor soul which was mine, drowning in its depths.
The dull ache in my lungs became an inferno pain as the air was exhausted. In desperation I frantically swam, I was a good swimmer, but the river was too strong. My lips parted and I inhaled the water. I felt myself give way to the darkness just after the feeling of the bone-chilling water entering my lungs.
My loss of consciousness was inevitable as the river swept me along the underwater current. I thought it was the end of me, that god had finally lost interest in watching me suffer. But I would soon realize that god had different plans for me, and that suffering was all I could handle for now.