My Watermark is the Saint John River, New Brunswick.

The first story I can think of takes place way up above the water, on a massive train bridge. At the time, I was a student attending the University of New Brunswick which was located on the south side of the massive St. John river. I lived on the north side. Just when we were nearing the half way point on the bridge we could see a train coming from around the bend.

There were only two options at this point. Either, jump into the deep river which would’ve swallowed us up in a second. Or, try and make a run for it to the half way point where a platform hung safely over the water and we could wait for the train to pass. We looked at each other and began to run for the middle platform just when my leg slide right between the planks of the bridge. My purse, textbooks, and notebooks all fell into the river. The train coming closer and closer my friend grabbed me and ripped my leg out of the bridge. The pull resulted in a massive gouge in my leg. Luckily, we made it safely to the middle of the bridge and all the way home.

To this day, I still have the scars to show for it and nightmares about falling into that massive river and being swallowed up. Something I will never forget.