The Lake

Fluorescent lights made everything feel nightmarish. Evelyn watched people come and go,
stopping to inspect chandeliers and outdoor furniture. The tile was hard beneath her. The feeling
growing in the pit of her stomach led her to believe that tonight was the night, though there were
no other signs. She trailed behind her family as they walked, completely oblivious to her
thoughts. They were reaching the exit when she got a text message. She was right. It was time.
Godfrey was going to die.

The outside air seemed glassy through the sliding doors of the shop. It was all the same dark
color that looked so foreign compared to the bright lights inside. Evelyn turned to tell her family,
but no words were required. Her heart hung heavy. She didn’t cry. She studied the collapsing
feeling in her lungs. They walked slowly and quietly, a funeral procession to the doorway.

The parking lot was dark and warm and wet. Soft rain fell on them as they walked. Before
she could get the chance to observe her surroundings, they were in the car on their way to
Godfrey.

The water was still on the lake that night, other than the small drops of rain that disturbed it.
As they were setting the boat out, Evelyn stood near and recalled the short car ride with her
mother, her little brother, and Godfrey. Godfrey sat in the back with her, looking out the window,
and holding her hand. She was sure he did this to calm her down. He’d known her family his
whole life, and he could practically read her thoughts. She blamed herself for not speaking. Not
reassuring him. Not telling him it was going to be alright. But he was never the one who needed
that. The car ride was silent, and after a few minutes of contemplating the alternative, she
decided that silence was best.

The boat was small, but it was okay; the four of them were light, and they weren’t going to
be here long. Godfrey waited for the family to get in the boat, then pushed it gently into the
water before climbing in himself. Evelyn found that symbolic. He was the only man here, so he
assumed it was his job, pushing the boat into the water. She wondered if it was, or if, in these last
moments, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready and that he needed a few extra seconds on land.

Though it wasn’t raining heavily, they were all glad the small boat had a covering so they
could clearly see each other in the moonlight without the obstruction of the rain. Slowly but
surely, the small waves drifted them to the center, where they decided with just a glance among
them that it was time. Godfrey hugged Evelyn’s mother and little brother before standing at the
edge of the boat. He looked at the water and glanced back at Evelyn before holding his hand out
towards her, steady and sure. She shakily grabbed it, and he motioned toward the water. He
helped her get out of the boat, and soon after joined her in the lake.

They swam a few feet away from the boat and then waded in the water, delaying the
inevitable. She studied Godfrey in this moment, knowing it was the last chance she would get.
He was a grown man, lean, with long brown hair, and brown eyes that reflected the moonlight.
He had been her mother’s friend. Though Evelyn and Godfrey had been very close, she was
confused as to why he chose her to come with him. Now was not the time for questions. Godfrey
pulled her in and hugged her. This felt oddly comforting. She gained a strong sense of peace. He
released her, and backed away a bit. She weighed the outcomes of saying goodbye, but before
she could open her mouth—

“Do not miss me.”

And with that, he slowly surrendered to the water, fully submerging himself. He wasn’t
visible anymore, but she could still feel him near. She swam back to the boat and climbed in with
her family. She turned back to look at where he left. The bubbles on the surface were gone. She
wrapped her arms around her mother and little brother, who were sobbing hysterically. For some
reason that she could not pinpoint, Evelyn had not shed a tear.

Just then, thunderstruck loudly, the rain intensified, and the lake rocked with malicious
intentions. With that, he was gone.

Ella Simmons is a double major in Creative Writing and Film Production. She loves all things macabre, ghoulish, and dreamlike. It’s not uncommon for her to write short stories, poetry, essays, and whatever else comes to mind.