T2+Creative+writing

Creative writing

The paddle was suddenly easy to move again. I was startled in the sudden movement and noticed that I was putting all my muscle into moving the cheap wooden paddle. I looked down, with a feared expression on my face, to the side of the canoe where half of my paddle was lodged between two large mossy rocks. I gasped, knowing that this would make the trip back even harder. The sky was the darkest shade of grey and it was like an oncoming sheet of rainwater pouring from misty sky.

I looked around me, looking for any sign of life or help. I looked down again to see that the jagged wood had broke into my skin and made a deep gash, the blood pouring out onto my dark blue shorts. I desperately pulled at the other half of my paddle, willing it to pop out of its prison. “By now it would be about midnight...” I thought “and thats when the predators come out.” Suddenly I was in a much bigger rush, I knew if I didn’t move now I would be dead before the hour was over.

As if the rocks finally understood what I was trying to send to them mentally, they separated allowing the release of the left half of my paddle. I paddled with all my force aiming for the side of the river. I suddenly felt this feeling come over me, like adrenaline, there on the side of the river laid a monstrous looking crocodile. I stopped paddling and held my breath, maybe it was sleeping, I thought.

I was sitting there for about 15 minutes before I saw a low hanging branch, just over my head, I saw it as a chance to escape. I grabbed onto it and pulled myself up, hanging like a monkey. I had a gut wrenching feeling that the branch was gonna snap but I swung myself up and jumped into the bushes, into safety. I began to cover myself with leaves as a camouflage. I knew what I had to do for the night and it wouldn't exactly be comfortable. I decided that in the morning i would hike up to the top of a mountain and see all across the jungle and find civilization again.