The man’s head emerged through the frothy skin of Owl Creek. His loud gasp for breath broke the silence of the darkening twilight. Frantically, he started searching all around him. His arms slapped at the water in attempts to hold up his body in the raging waters.

    “Chrystal!” he screamed. With no response, he dove back down into the piercing cold water. The man could see nothing but sheer blackness. It seemed to envelope him, suffocating and choking his thoughts. Out of nowhere he saw a light. The fair skin of his girlfriend Chrystal seemed to glow. Relief flushed through him as he swam toward her.

    He clung to her limp arm and dragged the both of them out and onto dry land. By this time, the air was no warmer than the icy creek they just escaped. This night was illuminated by the eery, yellow moon. The man collapsed with exhaustion on the crackling, dry, pineneedle ridden earth.

    “Chrystal! Chrystal?!” the man frantically yelled. He shook her lifeless body, but to no avail. He felt the soft, pale skin of the woman, and commenced with CPR. Her long, blond hair clumped in the dirt and stuck to her cold face. He ran his fingers down her smooth arms and held her cold, long fingers. He began to cry as he started to realize the shocking reality.

    His thoughts flurried around in his head. He couldn’t seem to think straight. His world was spiraling and coming down on him. He was hot and cold. His world was dark and bright. His beloved girlfriend of six years, Chrystal, was dead.

    “Why? How could this have happened? She’s the one that does this kind of thing!” the man yelled out, remembering all the adventures they’d been on together: rock climbing in Southern Utah, white water rafting on the Colorado River, rope swinging off bridges, going to Denali National Park in Alaska even! They had all been Chrystal’s ideas. She loved adventure. She craved adrenaline.
   

“Eric, look! Owl Creek Bridge! I’ve wanted to jump off of it since I was a little girl,” Chrystal pleaded. They had been walking one windy, autumn day. Eric liked looking at all the trees turning colors, the warm, moist air, the hint of cinnamon that seemed to linger around everywhere he went. He loved bundling up in a thick sweater and holding Chrystal’s hand while strolling down the leaf-covered cobblestone streets of their hometown.

    “That’s what you always say!” Eric replied, a little too not enthusiastic.

    “Oh, come on,” Chrystal prodded as they sloped up to the peak of the tall, steel beamed suspension bridge. Eric followed Chrystal’s lead in peeling off his boots, socks, and multiple layers, until he was down to just his boxers. The chilling wind blew through their hair as they rounded their now bare toes over the edge and peered over. The churning, black water below terrified Eric.

    “Why is this called a damn creek? It looks like class five rapids!” Eric complained, stalling. “Are you sure we shouldn’t be more prepared for this?”

    “Come on you big baby,” Chrystal said, reassuringly. “Nothing’s going to happen!”

    Eric tried hard to believe that, but he just had a bad feeling about this one. He was always scared of doing these types of things that Chrystal always dragged him into. The sense of accomplishment and pride afterwards always justified his utter horror beforehand, though.

    Without thinking too much about it, and with the assistance of Chrystal, the couple leapt off the edge, hands intertwined. Eric couldn’t help but scream. The cold of the water hit Eric and seemed to shrink his lungs to the size of peas. Chrystal fell headfirst into the creek.

She sunk down and struck a large boulder immediately under her. Chrystal Bathers’ delicate skull smashed on impact, and she fell to the bottomless depth of the freezing, black water.