The river under the root

He only meant to save someone. But in doing so, may have begun to tread a path on which he could save himself, too.

Have you ever felt the world tip on its edge? I haven't, but if I had, I think it would have felt like this.

I'd been drinking by the river for only a few minutes. I considered jumping countless times.

The bottle of alcohol in my hand swirled around and the clear liquid, like that of water, glittered in the moonlight. My mind was only beginning to grow hazy.

The frustration in my chest burned more than the acrid feeling of vodka tearing my throat apart. Would there be anything left of me, after tonight, as I burn alive in the flames of emotion that chokes out the air in my lungs? Who was I other than the son of the chairman? A rich nobody who knew nothing but money. I think back, back further in my mind than even the loss of my mother, yet I come up with nothing.

They say that 21 is young. It rings true. Even on my birthday today, I still feel like the child I was when I looked at my father and he did not look back. I still feel like that child playing piano on a stage, crying, but unsure if it was because I ruined my performance or because my Father didn't care to show up in the first place.

My nose stings with grief. I haven't become anyone. My birthday still means nothing, my piano still draws no attention, and the worst part of all is that I'm here, trying to throw it all away.

The bottle glitters in my hand and I take another drink. No one taught me how to properly handle alcohol. My throat hurts like hell but at least I've stopped coughing.

The night is dark but the moon is full and the sky is clear, giving me a full view of the rushing river. It's a powerful thing, but it isn't deep. In college, I visited it with a group of people, and they all brought floating chairs and jumped into it. It was during the slow months. Now, however, the river is a tumultuous thing, too violent and angry to rationally swim in. Even drunk college students don't play near here at this time. It's why I know I’m free to be alone, for a time.

There's a tree farther down the river. Its roots extend far out towards the water, hanging over it. I remember grabbing onto it when I was playing around and got swept up by the current.

Slightly drunk, I stand, wobbling unsteadily. My eyes roll over the river upstream.

There's a glint of something red.
It travels downstream quickly and it splashes chaotically.

It looks... familiar, I deduce in a daze. It looks like a person.

It looks…

Alarm bells go off in my mind loudly as I startle to an abrupt realization. I stumble forward and then take off in a sprint. The alcohol bottle hits a jagged rock and shatters effortlessly, the fancy print ignored and the effects of it on my system vanishing in an instant.

I throw myself into the freezing water of the river, still a ways away from the stranger. In only a few moments, I am taken by the river's current to the overhanging root of the tree, where I grapple onto it with impressive strength. I barely notice the pain of my hands being torn apart by the unforgiving bark.
I look out over the water, adrenaline in my veins. I can't see the red. Is it too late?
I squint through the splashing waves and try to breathe. There's no way that I missed them, there's no way.

I pull myself up closer to the root and grit my teeth. With a higher view, I finally get a glimpse of the red again.

"Over here!" I shout, voice cracking and weak. "Hey! Over here-"

Close enough that I can see them better, the person barely gets a gulp of air and goes back under.

Breathing fast and shrill I let myself down to hold onto the root with only one hand to reach out with the other.

River water dumps into my mouth and I spit it out, gasping as I bob on the surface.

"Here-" I cry out again before receiving more water in my mouth. It's hard to breathe and I feel like I’m going to accidentally let go and be swept away, just like this stranger.

The stranger gets close enough and I feel the weight of the world come off my shoulders when I see that they're conscious. I reach out desperately and they reach back, my eyes closing as we grip each other's forearms and I’m pulling them towards myself hard, wrapping my legs around them and ignoring the burning in my hand as if it weren't there. My fingers threaten to cramp but it's with a will that I've never felt before that I grip tighter and refuse to let go.

The stranger pulls themself up me like a rope. All I can think about is them. Will they make it? Can they grab the root? How much strength do they have left? Even as addled as I am, I feel like I could do anything if it meant that they survived.

Spots fill my vision as adrenaline pumps through my system and the icy water numbs my legs. I think the stranger pulls themself up towards the root and manages to grab it, but I feel dizzy. There's coughing, maybe my own, and someone is grabbing my face and telling me something.

I finally pull myself together and shuffle down the long root along with the stranger. I almost lose my grip, but the numbness in my mind keeps me from flinching as the bark digs in and rips through my skin like a knife.

We make it to the hollow of the tree, a convenient dry spot that is cocooned away from the rushing water. The stranger stumbles onto the ground and looks at me. I let go of the root.

I hit the floor at a bad angle, rolling over my ankle and going limp. I fall into the cold arms of whoever I saved. Relief blurs my eyes, making me unable to even see the person I risked my life for. Weakly, I let my surroundings go dark, just like the black, glittering water.

...

Author's Note

Hello, Psith here. At the beginning it may seem like his entire 'being at the river' is all about wanting to commit suicide. However, outside of this little bubble of writing you learn that he didn't plan to kill himself. He planned to drink, and then go from there. He would either ruin his reputation by dancing naked in the streets or trip into the river on his own feet. The, "I'm here, trying to throw it all away" is about him choosing to throw away the person he had tried to become up until then. And he's drinking because he doesn't have the courage to do it. Anyway! How is it? I'm working on action scenes, descriptions, emotions, pacing. It's a work in progress. Please give me your honest thoughts on this.