Grasping From The Canal

20251002

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

I just wanted to clear my head. That’s all. A quick walk down the canal path to the shops and back. Get my blood pumping a little, buy myself a sweet treat, fill my lungs with fresh air, all that good stuff. Make my therapist proud.
The lack of other people didn’t bother me. I was actually relieved. That’s part of why I went out when I did - mid-afternoon, after lunch but before schools ended. Figured it would be nice and quiet.
It was the lack of water birds which stuck out. Usually they’re all over the place, hanging out anywhere a soft touch might be willing to feed them. They’ll follow you, swimming alongside, pointedly quacking or squawking. I… sometimes pretend they’re a friend having a conversation with me.
Perhaps I should’ve taken their absence as a bad omen. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It was a disappointment, but it didn’t seem that weird.
So I continued down the path.
With no birds to watch the canal itself wasn’t interesting, so my attention drifted to my right, admiring the flowers in the verge and hedgerow. Finding colour is a game I use to keep the spiralling back.
When I stopped to sniff a flower I heard the first splash.
Looked behind me, of course. Not worried - not yet. But I thought there was finally a duck to admire. Didn’t see anything.
My skin was crawling. Particularly my back. I thought it was just the anxiety. The one time my subconscious was right, and… Well, that’s the old truism about crying wolf. I assumed I was overreacting. Gave myself a pep talk and did a breathing exercise.
I shouldn’t have picked one which involved closing my eyes.
The second splash was louder, right next to me, and immediately followed by something wet and slimy and cold gripping my ankle and tugging. My eyes flew open as I tumbled sideways, my leg being yanked out from under me leaving me sprawled on the path.
Instinct took over. I kicked hard with my free leg, rolling and levering and desperately trying to claw away from the water. But my foot found nothing and the grip was relentless.
As it dragged me I managed to twist myself around to see the water. There was only a grey, mottled hand tugging at me. I focused my kicks on its fingers and the water’s surface roiled, a muffled shriek stabbing into my gut.
“GET - OFF - OF - ME!!!” I screamed, each word punctuated by another blow against my assailant.
But they wouldn’t let go. Their grip tightened, until I was sure I had bruises of each finger worse than the ones from my own shoe.
My head swam. My foot was in the water now, cold wetness flooding my sneaker, and I felt teeth gnawing at my shin, trying to shred my jeans.
Then barks exploded down the path and a brown blur shot over me into the canal. I threw my arm up against the splash, only catching a glimpse of the dog - and the beast it was attacking. Then hands - dry and warm and wonderfully alive - hooked under my armpits and hauled me backwards onto the verge.
I doubled up, clutching my head and gulping air, fighting back the darkness roaring at my ears.
“Heather! HEATHER! Here, girl!” My rescuer whistled, and the dog stopped thrashing around in the water. “It’s gone. No catching it now. C’mon.”
By the time Heather had been convinced out of the canal I was no longer hyperventilating and able to stammer thanks.
“Did it bite you?” Their gaze was not only concerned but uneasy.
“I-I don’t…” I peeled up my sopping trouser leg and offered my poor ankle for inspection.
It was badly bruised, and scratched, but after examining it my rescuer declared I “wasn’t at risk”.
I didn’t dare ask in risk of what.
Those eyes I’d glimpsed as the monster fled… those eyes looked like they came from a tortured fish. But the face they were buried in was horribly human. Sunken, and twisted, and bloated, and yearning. But human underneath it all.
Had they…?
Heather was sniffing and licking at my face. A medium-large dog, built like the traditional old bulldog breed, a face built for grinning fitted with jaws that never let go. Even soaking wet as she was, I clung to her. Grateful for the solid warmth and gentle snuffling. She rested her chin on the back of my neck, one paw encircling me. A protective, reassuring embrace.
“Here, you should get dry - and so should our friend here.”
It took me a moment to realise they were talking to Heather.
“My car’s down the way - or do you live nearby? We can walk you back…”
“P-please.” I managed. “I, I can get you tea…”
“Oh, there’s no…” They paused and then firmly said “Actually, fuck it. Tea sounds lovely. Come on, let’s get you someplace you can take weight off that ankle…”
With their help I was able to stand and limp back down the path. Staying as far as I could from the water.

Prompt was “I just wanted to go for a normal walk…”