You screw your eyes closed and say to yourself "there is no place like home, there is no place like home, there is no place like home!" but your rubber soled tennis shoes are a poor substitute for ruby slippers and the water crashes against your frozen form. Your eyes pop open as you gasp from the cold water but water fills your lungs. The water picks you up with ease and slams you into the thick trunk of tree and you're certain you hear ribs crack but you sputter and inhale more water when you try to cry out. Your hands grope around for a branch to grab hold of but the water is too strong, too fast. The rushing flood waters pull you away from the tree. You're spun around by the water until you're no longer sure which way is up but it's not a problem for long. Your lungs demand air and you gasp again, inhaling more of the dirty water. That last gasp was breaking point and you stop struggling to find the surface. Quieted you drift along with the water until everything goes black.
So that's it, I've died?