A Story by The Violent Wolf

Not really sure where i got this one... Let me know what you think.

With the water just barely covering her feet she can still see the bottom. Good. The water is slightly on the cold side, tolerable. The lake is serene, still, nothing moves. There aren’t even any fish. A step further and the water is just at her ankles. Little ripples flow outward then die out. Another step, then another and another. Each sends tiny ripples. The water creeps up her legs, now it’s mid-calf. She can still see the bottom. 
She looks out, across the lake, to the other side. It’s just woods over there. Woods and darkness that beckon to her. 
She looks down again. A tiny fish has dared to swim close to her leg. Her next step sends it fleeing. The next one lands her foot in lake weed. Gross. But she exhales and braces herself for the next step. The water wraps around her knees. A couple more steps and the water is mid-thigh, slightly cold, but nice. She can’t see the bottom anymore. That bothers her, she doesn’t know why. 
She continues on, a step at a time. The next one brushes her knuckles against the water. She starts and pulls her hand up, relaxes and stretches her fingers into the welcoming cool of the water. It’s at the bottom of her shorts now, the water seeping into the cloth and spreading upward. A couple more steps and the water’s at her hips. The bottom is no longer firm. The sand smothers her foot and seeps between her toes. 
The water is at her waist now, it feels slightly colder than when she first stepped in. The water tickles her stomach as she takes another step. The sand makes it hard to balance so she glides her hands along the surface of the water to help her along. Two more steps and the water is at her ribs. Three more and the water is right under her bikini. Chilly water hugs her body. She keeps going and the water is at her shoulders, her arms floating just below the surface. 
Another step and the water is at the base of her neck. She can just barely feel the bottom of her hair getting wet. She tilts her head down and taps the water with her chin. She can hardly make out the shadowy outline of her legs. The bottom is covered in lake weed and she tries not to flinch. Chin up, she takes another step, bringing the water under her jaw. It is downright cold now, the water, as it envelops her torso. It pulls her forward, urging her on into it is depths. She obliges and the next step brings the water to her lips. She can feel the water sucking the warmth from her body. Another step, she’s up on her tiptoes, she stretches her arms out and tilts her head back, soaking her dark hair and making it one with the water. 
She watches the trees coax the orange sun towards them. The tall one persuades it with a kiss. 
Everything is still, no ripples from her body, no bubbles rising to the surface to release their message of life. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breathe and pauses a heartbeat. She goes under in one quick move, not a sound. A few ripples give her away then disperse. Under water she crouches down, clenches her fists to her chest and screams. 
She screams her anger, her frustration, her grief. She screams her confusion, her hate, into the water. She screams her loss. The bubbles chase each other to the surface. Without the air she sinks to the bottom with a silent thump. Unseen clouds of dirt and sand billow up and caress her shoulder, kiss her cheek. She tenses up and sits there for a handful of heartbeats. 
Without a sound she pushes off from the bottom and breaks through the surface with a quiet splashing of droplets, choking and gasping for air. She sucks the precious air into her empty lungs, relief flowing through her, life filling her veins. 
She isn’t giving up.

© 2013 The Violent Wolf

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I liked this. She isn't giving up. That is a simple line,k but a powerful one. Well done violent wolf.

Posted 6 Years Ago

The Violent Wolf

6 Years Ago

thank you :)

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Added on June 3, 2013
Last Updated on June 5, 2013
Tags: lake, water, step, scream, cold, girl


The Violent Wolf
The Violent Wolf

Pascoag, RI

I can't write well upon demand. I have to wait until a picture, theme or whatever hits me. I use real world experiences in my writing. Music is an inspiration. Some of my poems or whatever are random,.. more..