I never fell into the River, I was thrown. I never succumbed to the current I fought it to a standstill. From the riverbank it appeared as if I was floating place. But under the surface my legs kicked with mindless fury. I could only kick for so long, until the aching and tension was too much to bear. Eventually I crawled out of the River and walked back into the house. with each step I left behind a reminder, a stain on the spotless, pristine floor of the house of complacency. They yell at me for each puddle I create a disruption in their house of illusion. They tell me to dry off, but only hand me a rag. One day I will stop kicking my legs, one day I will leave the house, one day I will stop fighting. I will let the current take me away and the sun dry my skin.