The Lake with two Hands

22 September 2017

I inhaled a diminished breath as I watched my frantic hands above my head, disappear, beneath the surface. No one noticed. The cold water gulped around my ears as my face fell further away from the moon speckled surface. My feet were dragging me even further into the abys. No one noticed. Just to feel a warm hand, a face, a hand, a face. How I wish I could grow gills. How I wish somebody noticed me. No one noticed. They were drunk. I however had a life.

***

“I think she has had about 10 shots in the past 20 minutes, it would be a wise choice to stop her before her liver packs up!” I shouted over the music to her boyfriend, Sean. I watched him stumble over to Jenny, grab her arm and guide her to us. She looked okay; I was just concerned for her health. “Let’s call it a night guys, this one will be feeling it in the morning.” Sean slurred as he ruffled her hair. Truth is I think we all will.

As we walked down the drive way on to the country road the cliff edges gleamed in the moon light after a recent rain fall. Oldham reservoir attracts hundreds of wild swimmers, water sport thrill seekers and is known for its warm crystal clear water. How inviting. So inviting. The silver folds gently lapped a pebbly shore. “Maybe we have got time for a small dip?” I questionably asked. Jenny’s eyes widened excitedly at the idea. Sean looked less impressed, and so did Owen, the last member of our quad. “It was only a suggestion, we don’t have to!”

“But what are we going to wear, it will be to cold in my boxers, I might just stay in my clothes?!” exclaimed Owen. I just nodded as I was taken away by the beautiful scenery. I felt safe.

I knead the pebbles beneath my feet. The small breaks in the ripples caressed the side of my shoes. I was looking out onto an inky blue lake where the light of the night echoed straight off the surface. I was surrounded by intimidating mountains. The silence was shattered by a paddling jenny. She was a super strong swimmer and swam for the county. We left her too it and took our seats on some rocks. Owen was snapping the most beautiful pictures of the lake. The lake with two arms.  The lake with two hands. The lake with the last breath of Jenny. The lake with a cold, inebriated lifeless body. A body that we could no longer save.

By Isla Newall.