AFLOAT SEASON 1 E. 1

Once you choose hope, anything's possible

         — Christopher Reeve

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I pulled my knees up to my jaw as I tried to coil myself into a ball. The jagged edges of the building I had fled into grazed my skin. My off the shoulder top clung to me like a second skin, soaked by the sweat trickling down my back. Goose bumps formed on my body as the chill of the night breeze mercilessly seeped into my pores.

Concealed by the darkness and enveloped by the stench of the swamp and general refuse dump, I hurdled lower, finding peace in the rhythm of my heart hammering in my ears as I calculated my next move. Suddenly, my knees felt damp and I looked down as my denim soaked up more moist. It was then I realized I had been crying.

Swiping at the silent tears streaming down my face with quivering fingers I stifled the choking sound that threatened to escape from my throat as I felt the smear of something I could swear was excreta on my face. My skin crawled and my stomach lurched with revulsion as I tried to hold down my lunch from earlier. More tears blinded me and my body shook uncontrollably.

Why did I ignore my gut? Why did I take that shortcut instead of my usual agonizingly long way home? Why did I brush off the news about the local gang handing out swift, brutal death on this exact route? All I wanted was to rush home before I completely embarrassed myself and lost the battle to the massive stomach bug wrecking my guts—a stomach bug that somehow totally vanished the second real panic kicked in.

God, please help me, I prayed silently, my heart hammering against my ribs at a million miles an hour as I strained my ears, desperately trying to catch any sound that wasn't crickets or frogs going at it in a nearby pond.

I am sure you are wondering how my dilemma started and why I am concealing myself inside a abandoned building at night. Well, my name is Dapper and this is my story...