Runner-Up -- Junior Section

Fahan School

Everyone says deep water is the scariest – that they don’t know what waits in the dark abyss. But the water I’m afraid of is shallow water. Especially if it is running.

What is it running from?

The creature from the deep water?

Of course, the shallow water isn’t running from anything. The shallow water is the predator. It reveals the secrets no one wants found.

I stand at the edge of the lake, the bleak morning sun on my face. The lake has been on my family’s property long since they built a cottage here. The secrets of the lake have always been there. The lake, with its shallows and the deep. Full of secrets. The secrets run

down,

           down,

                       down,

the small rock formation that becomes a waterfall after a rainy night. I only come to the lake after it has rained.

It drowns the secrets of the shallows.

I have a secret, too. A secret I told the deep water of the lake, so the shallows wouldn’t know. I only tell my secret to the deep water when it has rained. The running of waterfall deafens the shallow water.

The water cannot hurt anyone as long as I am here. Other people cannot come near the lake. Only my family could, but they thought they were safe. They thought they were safe from their secret. Even I’m not safe from the secrets the water holds. Now, I’m alone. My family’s secret lies in the water of the lake with them, so they have never really left the land. The deep water hides them from the shallows.

My hand traces the chipped green paint of the decaying jetty on the lake. My family did not understand the water. They did not understand how it lives, how it thinks. They made fatal mistakes. The sound of the waterfall echoes in my head as it runs

down,

            down,

                          down.

My family knew how to keep the water alive. They fed it secrets. Until the water fed on them.

I gaze into the deep water of the lake. I feel my family’s eyes on mine. A dark shadow sweeps across their eyes.

The sound of the darters in the distance awakens me from my trance. The water holds memories. As much as the small waterfall disturbs the stillness of the lake, the memories are still in the deep water, at the bottom of the lake. I remember…

                                                                *****

It did not rain that day, so I did not go to the lake. In fact, the darters were sunning their glossy black wings in the bright light. The water lilies were blooming on the deep blue surface. My younger brother and sister were rowing the boat across the water. I watched from the highest window of our house as the children rowed around the watchful lake whilst my parents sat in pool chairs on the shore. I could hear their shrieks of delight.

That meant the water heard them too.

The darters at the edge of the lake looked up, startled. They flew away, east to the mountains.

My brother stood up on the boat. The children rarely went into the lake. I thought he was going to jump in, but they were too deep. Suddenly, their boat rocked violently. He fell back onto his seat. Fear filled their faces. They were far from shore, where my parents stood in bewilderment. The boat rocked again, causing it to tip and the children toppled into the water.

My siblings had only ever swum in the shallows of the lake. My parents should have realised they were not safe. They called the children into shore hurriedly with their arms. Only my parents and I knew the deadly secret the deep water hides from the sun.

I ran to the front porch of our cottage.

The water pulled my siblings under; they would not resurface. My father ran into the lake to save them, but he too was consumed by the water. That just left my mother and me.

The world went silent like a shadow. The water was still and again waiting. My mother stood in the shallows of the lake. I was on the porch. She turned around as if in a dream. Her glazed eyes filled with fear and met mine. She walked indoors, as if she removed the event from her mind and let the shallows wash over it.

She never left the cottage again.

Large clouds rolled in from the distance. I stood on the porch, feeling empty. Rain started to fall. It disturbed the stillness of the lake and what lurked in the deep waters. The trickles from the waterfall reached my ears. Only then did I make my way down to the lake. In the shallows were my brother’s glasses. Another secret for the shallows.

                                                           *****

I gasp as a piece of old wood from the jetty pierces my skin and awakens me from my memories. Everyone says deep water is the scariest. They don’t know what waits in the dark abyss.

I do.

I do not see the malevolent eyes as they emerge from the deep water. The darkness covers them like I cover up my secrets. I only see the eyes when they reach the shallows. The water holds memories. The eyes remember. I sit on the boards of the jetty with my feet in the shallow water. Maybe I shouldn’t be scared of the deep or shallows. Maybe I should worry about the things water conceals.

The babbling sound of water from the waterfall fills my head, like when you stay under water for too long.

The water falls

                          down

and I have stayed under too long.