I had been dragging the enormous canoe for hours by now, when finally, my father stood by me to release the canoe inside the lake. Rumor had it that this lake was the devil’s lake, and it was quite believable with the eerie sounds and surrounding uninhibited area. I thought that maybe the devil would come forth from the lake and give us misfortune, but I doubted it. Disregarding our surroundings, my father and I audaciously stepped in the canoe, and with that, we started moving.
     “Son, I’m so very proud of…” his words trailed off.
     I looked around and saw that we were already in the middle of the lake. The murky, foul-smelling water was splashing all around us. My father and I would usually be unaffected by this, but for some reason, I knew we had to make a run for it. I grabbed my now drenched bag and saw that the only thing inside was my camera. Without thinking, I took some pictures and this must have angered the devil because the lake was as active as ever, creating a fearful sight for us. I thought I saw the devil in the corner of my eye but assured myself it couldn't be true, and that it was merely a myth. Suddenly, I was faced by regret after remembering the canoe paddles I had thrown away while walking here. I told my father to hold on to the camera while I furiously worked to create a paddle by breaking off planks of wood from the canoe. My father looked at me frantically, as if I had lost my mind, but I knew this had to be the only way out. I started to paddle toward land and my father followed suit. Battling the raging waters, we finally made it to shore. Then, my father and I ran, with only a camera and absolutely no sense of direction.