Creative Writing: Another One Dead

Creative+Writing%3A+Another+One+Dead

Micaela Gaither, Writer

 

Four years ago a tragedy occurred. The tragedy was covered up, but there was a journal found.

 

March 17th

 

The swim team hadn’t been practicing all winter. Our state has a peculiar swim season, and winter as the normal season for most was our break. As March came around the corner, we were all hyped to be getting ready to jump back into action.

 

I missed the feeling of my arms moving through the chemical filled pool water. It was what I needed at the moment.

Lindsey, my best friend and I had gotten into a fight the night before. It was dumb. It was about Monopoly. She accused me of cheating in a playful way, but it escalated from there.  

 

Despite the wonderful feeling of the water, I left practice early. It was too hard to be around Lindsey.

 

March 20th

 

The night I left early, Lindsey stayed late. She stayed to release all the negative emotions I caused. She was alone.

 

And now she is dead. I don’t know what happened, she probably just drowned.

 

It’s too hard to write. I can’t see the words on the page, my eyes are too blurry.

 

I miss her. She was not just my friend, she was my sister. I feel empty. . .

 

April 3rd

The pool was open finally again. I was thrilled. I needed an escape from the sympathies and the confinement of my house.

 

April 4th

Last night Eduard was found dead.

The pool was closed again.

 

April 10th

 

It was opened again. I found Lindsey goggles.

 

*Entries from the 11th of April to May 15th were not present when the journal was discovered *

 

May 15th, 2015

 

Another one dead. Another one gone. There was only six left, including me, we used to have 15 members. The team might have as well just been disbanded.

 

They came in the winter. Their presence wasn’t made known till March.

 

No one knew what they were. No one knew what was happening. No one wanted to believe.

 

Friday, May 13th, we were given no choice but to believe. The clear, toxic chlorine filled blue water had been shaded a vibrant red.

 

The next day the remaining six were confronted by a bright yellow tape blocking access to the pool. Next to the tape were the devastating words “The Pool is closed till further notice. Swim team is canceled for the season.”

 

It made sense. People, kids were being killed in gruesome, violent ways. What didn’t make sense was what was killing them.

 

The last one. The last one had bled out quickly, that’s all we were told. That’s all we needed to know, the parents had thought the night prior. Why tell us the cause of death? The one thing that might save us.

 

Three different autopsies had been done to each of the victims. The injuries couldn’t be from what they compared to. It was simply impossible.

 

It’s a lucky thing my father is one of the medical corners and a blabber mouth. I may have never had a clue about what happened to my friends.

 

The swim team hadn’t been practicing all winter. Our state has a peculiar swim season, and winter as the normal season for most was our break. As March came around the corner, we were all hyped to be getting ready to jump back into action.

 

They continued. We started at 15 members. Then 14. 13. 12. 11. So on until now, we are down to six.

 

The team is disbanded. And most of us are dead. But how?

 

Once again I thank the universe for my big mouth father and his profession. He was a bit intoxicated one night in April and during Shark week brought up their deaths.

 

My dad had been sitting on the couch, leaning intently into the tv. Sharks fascinated him.

 

He had started muttering that the bite marks on the screen were matching. Not knowing that I was near, he called someone.

 

As I listened to his side of the conversation, i became horrified. He was talking about Lindsey.

 

The bite wounds? He said they matched to that of a shark. But a shark can’t live in a pool filled with chlorine. And it’s not like a regular sized shark would go unnoticed.

 

My dad kept insisting that’s what it had to be, and given is increasing agitated voice, I assumed the other end was disagreeing.  

 

If I was included in the conversation, I wouldn’t believe it either.

 

May 16th

I made a mistake earlier today. I wanted to know if it was true. If the sharks were real. I broke into the aquatic center.

 

The only positive of my actions was I figured it out. I had Lindsey’s goggles as a way to remember her as I did what we used to do together.

As I was sneaking around, the goggles fell onto my eyes. And I saw them.

 

There were sharks in the 15 foot part of the pool. They were circling around each other.

 

I stumbled backward into the wall. Hitting the fire alarm. That was how I was caught.

 

But I figured out what happened to her. That’s all that matter to me.

 

May 20th

 

My grounding was officially over. I was free to go back out into the real world.

 

I went to the pool again. With the goggles.

 

I wasn’t breaking the law this time. The pool was open to the public.

 

The sharks were gone when I entered again.

 

May 30th

 

There hadn’t been any deaths in the last ten days.

The swim team was trying to get new members again. I was happy. I missed my best friend, but I was healing as time passed.

Today I was gonna go swimming into the deep end for the first time in the past couple months.

 

_____

 

That was the last entry of the journal. After we found the journal, we looked it to the owner. She died around the end of May in 2015 under mysterious causes. The various deaths that occurred in these months of 2015 were covered up and taken out of the newspapers. As far as we know the sharks are still hiding out in the deep end of the pool. Be careful while swimming. Maybe find Lindsey’s missing goggles to help you navigate the pool. Good luck in the deep end!