I was running away from everything I ever knew, my home, my family, my life in search of something, someone, who I hoped could save me. Someone who I wasn't even sure was there, I had only heard rumors of where our Shaman lived with his son, they said it was far up in the mountains where this river started. They said his teepee was right next to its source so that's where I was going. I am one of the only ones who escaped I think- I haven't seen anyone else.

The attack came so quickly no one knew or suspected…except me but I was too late for me to do anything, I tried everything I swear! I tried to save them but it seems for some reason the great spirit didn't want me to succeed.

I keep thinking of him as I rush upstream trying not to slip, I tell myself over and over that he will be able to save us, that he is the one who can make it all okay. But can he? Or am I just holding desperately to this one piece of hope to keep myself from drowning in despair.