Terry and his cousin Greg rowed towards the swamp. “Look,” said Greg. A decayed boat lay between two rotting tree stumps. “My uncle told me that children who got lost in swamps were cursed to live there forever,” said Greg. “Let’s go back now,” said Terry scared. The children turned back, but their boat ground to a halt. It had hit something. “It must be a log,” said Greg. Terry tried to locate the log with his oar. The boat rocked violently and the oar slipped from his grasp. Terry tried to retrieve the oar from the murky waters. His hands encountered something slimy and swollen that grabbed him. He screamed and recoiled. Then the thumping started. It felt like a hundred fists hitting the hull. There was laughter like a dozen giggling children. Then, it stopped. Bright lights blazed from another boat. Terry and Greg went limp with relief. “Terry! Greg!” their parents shouted and rowed towards them.
The Swamp
