The River

     As he fell, he waited for the icy water to surround his body. Through the air, he felt the weightlessness of gravity pulling him towards the water's surface. On the river shore stood a group of friends, laughing, drinking, smiling and filming each other. In the air next to him, a girl. Her hair a dark brown with red highlights in the sunlight and beautiful waves that were about to be ruined by the water.
     Just as quickly as his foot had left the cliff, it was entering the cold river water. A brief glimpse of the group of friends on the shore followed by darkness as he went under the water's surface. Bubbles of air crawled up his body, trying to escape back up to the surface. Beginning to kick, he joins the rising bubbles of air to the top. Surfacing he regains his breath and looks to the girl by his side.
     Smiling and laughing she brushes her now wet hair out of her face and runs over to the group of spectators on the shore. The group plays back the video on a blue smartphone, the jump has already been immortalized on the internet.
     The rest of the afternoon is spent repeating jumps off the cliff. Some are simple, some include tricks and some jumps become competitions, but all give the teenagers the adrenaline rush that keeps them repeating the same jump. When the sun begins to set, the group begins to gather wood and logs, placing them in a fire pit near the shore. The rest of the night is filled with music, s'mores and more drinking until the sun comes up the next morning.
     The following morning the group of teens wakes up covered in ashes from the still-burning fire. Lightly brushing off the soot they begin to clean up and pack up their gear. Today they would be hiking to the next campsite.
     While the others woke up comfortably covered in soot, the boy woke up still wet. His curly hair dripping water and his skin cold from not drying off. His clothes still heavy. The fire was warm, but not enough to dry him off. He called out the leaving group to wait for him, but they didn't hear him. Frantically he looked for his dry clothes... his sleeping bag... his tent; all gone.
     Had he eaten breakfast this morning? Dinner last night? He couldn't remember. He calls out to the group again, but they're out of sight now. Still wet, he sits as close to the still-burning fire as he can, with hopes to dry off.
     Still wet, he hears voices in the distance, another group comes to the campsite.
     "Hey! Want to go swimming?" A cheerful voice shouts. The boy nods in agreement.
    Soon the waters are filled with a new group, this time they looked about college-age; only two years older than the boy.  The pattern repeated, an afternoon filled with swimming, jumping, and video filming, followed by a night of togetherness around a fire. Again, this group packed up and left the boy behind; still wet.
     For years the boy was struck in the same loop. Joining a group for swimming and campfire fun, to be left behind, and never being able to get dry. Until she came.
     A beautiful blonde girl. The last of the melting snow crunching underneath her hiking boots. Her pack was light and it became clear to the boy that she was traveling alone. She came to the edge of the river and crouched down to clean her face.
     After setting up a tent hidden in the trees she started a fire, gathered water and began to sketch in a small leather journal as she waited for the water to boil. Her sketchbook was filled with small sketches of flowers, trees, and natural scenery.
     With her water boiling now, the girl begins to make her dinner. A breeze brings a cold chill into the campsite; she knows she needs to prepare for a cold night. She was prepared for the cold, but she wasn't prepared for the rain that would come in.
     As she slept, a heavy rain came through the area. The girl woke up to her tent filled with ice-cold water. Panicked she desperately searches for dry clothing. Her tent begins to move as the ground underneath slides into the river.
     In her fluster of movements she unexpectedly finds herself outside the tent; standing on the shore as everything washes away. Cold and wet she looks around to plan out her next step.
     "Did you go swimming?" asks the boy.
     "No, my tent got washed down the river." she replies.