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Hours later the light disappears from the water and I swim towards the bank. Surprisingly strong arms allow me to lift myself out of the water, my wet clothes clinging to me, the water dripping red with my own blood. An old lady walking her dog screams and basically runs on along the canal path when she sees my now skinny skeletal form, calm and pale in the moonlight. Now I run. I run away from the village I grew up in, away from anyone who knew me and away from my disappearance that will be haunting my family and friends... my family and friends who now feel like strangers to me. I run to the main road and head towards the next town and on through time itself... miles and miles I run but I don't tire, I never tire.
No longer of the living
. . . back
And I never shall.