I remember the day we lost him, my younger brother Noah.
We were trying to get a video of the old riverman because we were at the age where monsters and urban legends were as real as our friends. The riverman was either a demon or something undead, depending who you asked. He slept at the bottom of the river unless he sensed children nearby - those he would skin and eat alive.
Our parents didn't care what we did as long as we didn't cause any trouble and didn't come home late or messy. So we got it into our heads that the riverman was real and if we got footage of him coming out of the water we'd become rich and famous which was all any kid of our generation wanted.
We borrowed dad's camera and figured we'd record over one of our baby videos. We must have spent a good three hours before we woke up from a brief nap in the summer sun to see large green eyes staring at us from just below the surface of the water, the rest of his body too far down for us to properly see.
I was the one who wanted to get a closer look.
I was the one who dared Noah to dangle the camera over the edge of the jetty.
I was the one who watched the riverman peel his skin in delicate little strips and ran home crying.
They never believed me - not my friends or parents or the police. They thought Noah had fallen in and I was making all of this up because I was only seven and traumatised but I know what I saw. I know he's still down there, sleeping until his next meal.
We were trying to get a video of the old riverman because we were at the age where monsters and urban legends were as real as our friends. The riverman was either a demon or something undead, depending who you asked. He slept at the bottom of the river unless he sensed children nearby - those he would skin and eat alive.
Our parents didn't care what we did as long as we didn't cause any trouble and didn't come home late or messy. So we got it into our heads that the riverman was real and if we got footage of him coming out of the water we'd become rich and famous which was all any kid of our generation wanted.
We borrowed dad's camera and figured we'd record over one of our baby videos. We must have spent a good three hours before we woke up from a brief nap in the summer sun to see large green eyes staring at us from just below the surface of the water, the rest of his body too far down for us to properly see.
I was the one who wanted to get a closer look.
I was the one who dared Noah to dangle the camera over the edge of the jetty.
I was the one who watched the riverman peel his skin in delicate little strips and ran home crying.
They never believed me - not my friends or parents or the police. They thought Noah had fallen in and I was making all of this up because I was only seven and traumatised but I know what I saw. I know he's still down there, sleeping until his next meal.
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