I trudge my way down the river. I'm heading east, I think. I only have one of my wooden stakes left. The other one is at the bottom of the rubble pile that was once the witch's house. Agatha isn't dead, she is strange that way. I think she is immortal. Soon her hut will be rebuilt and she will be just the same crabby witch she was.
I find a small canoe at the riverbank. It is red but much of the paint has been scratched off. It looks as if it hasn't been used in years, so after breaking several spiderwebs I get it in the water and hitch a ride. I float for what I think is two hours. Dragonflies begin to land on my oars and boat. I raise my stake and fillet one of them, that was my mistake. A few seconds later I see a black flash and a boy is in my canoe. He doesn't look much like me. I'm the kind of kid you and your friends point and laugh at and call me emo. My black hair hangs over my eyes and I wear black often. This kid is wearing a torn up Dodgers shirt and genes. He has brown hair and a long cutlass which now touching the tip of my nose.
He jumps at me and bowls me out of the boat. I'm five foot four, the water is abound six feet. I'm being drowned. I take my stake and begin jabbing and kicking. The pressure is lifted and I float to the surface. I swim toward the canoe, which is stall by a giant tree branch. I grab on but I didn't realize the kid was also in the boat. He tackles me again and we both plunge into the water. The river is shallow here so I stand up. We are both wet. He raises his cutlass, which then lights on fire. "Great, now I have to fight a kid with a flaming sword," I say to myself.
He prepares to swing, but I move first. I hit him in the face with my stake. He flips around and lands in the water. After five seconds he lays there underwater.
"Get up!" I scream.
"Get up!"

I don't care if he tried to kill me, I'm not going to let this kid die. I drag him out of the water and realize the damage the stake has done. There is a huge gash on his cheek. I stitch it up and sit there waiting for him to wake up.
The sun begins to go down and finally the kid wakes up. He see's me and he reaches for his cutlass, but it is not there.
"You're dead!" he screams.
"Was it something I said?"
He jumps at me, but I dodge it.
"Is this how you treat someone who pulled you out of the river?" I say.
He stares at me.
"That was you?" he asks.
"Who else?"
"And you owe me for it" I continue. "Who are you anyway?"
"Griffin, son of the headless horseman."