Scrawl-A-Thon - Post #4

“Okay.” Mac’s meaty chuckle beats from above. “Be croc food.”

My thighs scrape their way over the glass, peeling skin. Knees knock the edge. I scream. High pitched and girly.

So much for being tough.

“Mac. I. . .”

“Swim!” He yells.

The top of my sneakers snag the glass briefly. I hold my breath. Then they let go and I plunge head first, arms outstretched, into the slippery water.

Thrashing my arm hits the croc, knobby skin like armor under my arm. He reacts. Fast. Teeth, white and jagged, snap onto my right arm. Teeth sinking in. Lava pain. I grab at the croc’s jaw with my other hand. He’s not much longer than half of my body, but he’s strong. I can feel bone crushing. Blood pooling. His mouth like steel. A bear trap. He’s not opening up.

I punch, bellow, swallow water and choke.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Just pain and more pain.

Then a BOOM.

A punch in my back.

Ears ring.

Ring.

I can’t hear.

Breath knocked out.

Mac shot me. Mac shot me.

I can’t. I can’t believe.

Everything hurts. Burns. Bones twist. Skin shreds.

Glass falls around me. Bouncing into the water. Speckles of splashes.

Glass.

Bouncing off my skin

Screaming.

Mine?

Rajeet?

Mac?

I don’t know.

It all hurts too much.

It all fades into cold swampy, rotted water and blood.

It all fades away from the pain.