Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange stretch of road.

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"The Bottom of the Lake"

“I had a nightmare the other day, very similar to the ones I had before it. Some details I remember better than others, but more than anything I can remember the smell of silt in the water, and the feeling of my sister gripping me tight upon waking. This is what bothers me most...that feeling. That gripping, grasping tightness against my ribs that will not go away.

My sisters death was not caused by anything malicious. There was no monster, whether man or beast, that caused her to drown. She was simply not as good of a swimmer as I, and that is all. But the burden of her death still rests upon me, and know in my heart that the desperate, clawing feeling that remains attached to my skin is proof of my guilt.

It was warm day. My sister and I decided to take walk near our home. There was a special place for us, a small lake fed by a creek that ran through the grounds. The trees shaded us, as the sun filtered through, making a patchwork out of the soft green grass of the shore. It was warm that day though, and it didn't take much to convince my sister that taking a swim would be nice. We agreed to stay in the shallows, and I laughed when my sister shrieked when the cool water touched her skin.

I knew the cold water would help her limp. Today it was more pronounced than most. We played for a while, splashing each other and building castles out of the silt. But soon the sun began to warm our skins, and we began to get hot again. So slowly we made our way into deeper water, the temperature dropping as we stepped deeper in.

The color of the water darkened as we got deeper. Soon it was at our waists, the normally clear water taking on the color of green. We splashed around some more, and sat upon the bottom, the sand even colder than the water itself. We talked about boys, and my sister blushed when I asked her if she liked anyone. Not that I thought it would lead anywhere. We were children. It was a crush at best. But it was nice all the same. To hear something like that coming from her. She acted like someone her age should, and for once we really felt like sisters. The sun shifted in the sky, as we chatted on and on.

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