4-Stuck in the Mud (Juliet's P.O.V.)
I walked slowly down the rocky track. Butler swore it would 'calm me down'. Not that I was agitated, of course. Not that I cared about him.
I reluctantly clambered over the bridge, pausing only to break the camera, planted to protect me. Ha. Like I needed protecting. I wasn't totally stupid.
Feeling reckless, I leapt off the bridge, swimming the rest of the way. I ended up south of where I'd started, knee deep in mud. I then realised exactly what I was in.
Sinking sand.
I tried screaming, which was pointless. Not only was there no one around to hear, my mouth was slowly filling with the squelchy, gooey stuff. This was the worst form of torture. I knew exactly what to do, but I couldn't do it. I also knew exactly what would happen when the mud squeezed the air from me.
