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Oh God, they were going to rape her. She knew it; she just knew that if they caught her, they were going to hold her down and gang rape her. Please, she prayed, Please let me get away from them. Please let me make it to the shore.
But her brain was screaming for air and she could not even see the bottom.
Oh dear God, this couldn't be happening!
It was too far. She had to surface. She gulped a few of breaths, checked her course, and dove again. They'd been laughing and yelling. The other canoe was headed across her path. She swam frantically, the fear and the oxygen deprivation mixing like a horrid drug exploding in her skull.
The water started getting shallow and she thought perhaps she could stand up and slog to her clothes, as if just being clothed would armour her against all danger.
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She started to stand and a hand grabbed a fist full of blonde hair, painfully pulling her to her feet.
She tried to complain, to beg them to let her go, but her lungs would do nothing but gulp back air. In her fear, frustration and humiliation, she started to cry, making talking even more impossible and deepening her humiliation. She fought to get free of the grip in her hair, to run towards shore.
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