The Lake

*Story Contains: Substance Abuse, Violence, & brief mention of suicide.

Every telephone poll, store in town, and news station had her face plastered all over. It was a nightmare, seeing her face everywhere I turned. The picture her parents had chosen to be used was her junior year school photo that she had taken a month prior. I can still see her light brown eyes, the color of hot chocolate; you could see the innocence in them. She had light brown hair to match her eyes; it was long and naturally wavy. She was the only girl I knew who had perfect beach waves without putting any effort into her hair.

"Do I look stupid wearing this turtleneck?" She had asked me the morning of school pictures. "No, it makes you look very sophisticated," I encouraged her. It did make her look sophisticated. It was a white turtleneck; she had a gray cardigan; and she had received this beautiful pearl necklace after her grandmother passed away the previous year. She looked as elegant as Princess Diana in that photo.

The town had three different search parties for her before she was found. I had many conversations with the police regarding her whereabouts. I was her best friend, so of course they would be targeting me to be interrogated; it was to be expected. The whole situation was eerie. It was as if I were walking into a dark tunnel, but the tunnel never comes to an end.

Sadie Sutherland, a 16-year-old missing female, was found dead. I was drowning in tears; the shooting stomach pains I was experiencing had to feel the same as being stabbed repeatedly. The thought of ending it all popped into my head often. How was I to go on with this burden of my best friend's death?

Ten years have passed since the death of Sadie Sutherland. It has been about six years since I left my hometown in Colorado to start a new life with my husband in a small town in Texas. That life back in Colorado I had left behind, I was in a position in my life where I could finally let go of the worst night of my life and have a chance to be happy, or at least I thought.

My husband Jason and I arrive back in our old town in Colorado. We received a call a few days prior that his cousin had passed away in a motorcycle accident, resulting in the two of us having to travel back to our old stomping grounds. This, of course, was not sitting right in my stomach, being in the area on the same day of the tragic death of my best friend.

We arrive at the church for the funeral, just a block away from Huntington Trail. Memories start to flood my mind. All those days, Sadie, Harper, and I would venture down that trail almost every day after school on our bikes. The trail led to a lake, and the water appeared green. There were hundreds of rocks that covered the shore of the lake in all shapes, colors, and sizes. As kids, we would pick rocks to take home to paint, play make-believe pretending that monsters were in the lake to defeat, or pretend to be in the same situation as Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway. "WILSON!" we would shout, and that would always turn into one big laugh fest.

As we grew older, the lake was still our go-to hangout spot, but it changed from reprising Tom Hank's roles to smoking cigarettes that Harper would steal from her mother's cartons and smoking marijuana that we would buy from Dennis Davis, who was a year older than us and the only one who would sell it to us back then. Not only was Dennis Davis our dealer, but he was also Harper's boyfriend. Dennis was tan, had blue eyes, and had blonde hair that flipped when he tossed his head to the side, and boy did he do that often.

Jason and I step inside the church, the same one where Sadie's service was held. That was the last time I stepped into that church. I felt paralyzed the second my foot stepped on the red carpet inside.

"Jason, I am going to head to the bathroom real quick." I walk into the ladies room, and the door slams shut behind me. I quickly lock the door and find myself staring into the mirror. The feeling that my soul has left my body overcomes me. I then let my head fall, now staring into the sink drain. My red hair hangs down on each side of my face.

The soap dispenser falls off the edge of the sink, and suddenly the lights turn off. My heart drops. The light flashes back on, and my hands are shaking as I pick up the soap dispenser that had fallen to the ground without any logical explanation. It's at that moment that I see words appear on the mirror.

"Return to the lake," the mirror read. A surge of fear went through my body. I was beginning to feel short of breath. What was happening? Was this Sadie? Was she here? After all these years, why now?

My legs felt unsteady as I rushed out of the bathroom. As I scurry away from the bathroom, I bump straight into my old friend Harper Madison. Unlike a normal person, who would greet a friend they haven't seen in six years with a "hello!" "How are you?" My greeting to Harper was, "We need to go to the lake!"

"Well, nice to see you too, Charlotte."

"I'm serious, Harper, we need to go."

"Why in the hell would we go there ever again?"

"Sadie is here. Just now in the bathroom.

"You're acting psycho,"

"Harper, trust me."

I tell Harper to trust me, but how could I say that? I don't know what is going to happen, but I knew I had to take a chance going down to the lake.

After the funeral, Harper and I headed down to the lake in her blue Volkswagen bug. When we get out of the vehicle, we start walking down the Huntington Trail.

"I don't understand what we are doing here." Harper's teeth were chattering.

"I don't either." I am second-guessing myself as we almost reach the lake where we spent most of our days.

We made it to the lake, which still looked as green and disgusting as it did back then. This lake was not filled with happy memories; the lake was not filled with make-believe monsters anymore. These monsters were real.

"So what now? Do we sit here and think about Sadie being dead? What gives Charlotte??

"Harper, shut up! Look!" I jumped with fear.

The lake water was turning black; darkness was taking it over. It was as black as the night sky on a night with no stars.

"What in the hell?" Harper fell to the ground as fast as the speed of light.

"Harper, Harper!!" I kneel down next to her, shaking her to wake her out of her trance.

Harper shoots up from the dirt. Her eyes are rolled back into her head; all I see is black, like a demon was inside of her.

"Harper, are you okay?" I was on a merry-go-round that wouldn't stop spinning.

"I am not Harper, but I'm sure you can guess who."

"Sadie?!" 

"Lucky guess!"

"Why am I here?"

"Well Charlotte, I'd like to know why I am "Well, I'm wondering how someone could let their best friend rot dead in a lake. How can someone keep the truth from one's family and friends? You left me here for three days, Charlotte! Pretending you didn't know where I was."

"I'm sorry, Sadie! We were so young, all we wanted to do was

"Forget? All you wanted to do was forget. Forget about me? What happened?" 

"I promise you, I have not forgotten about that night; I have not lost the memory of you. I have not gone one day in the last ten years without the memory of witnessing my best friend's death.

"My death? You mean my murder?"

"You almost committed murder first." I was hesitant to throw this in her face, as I was completely paralyzed in fear that I was talking to a ghost. Another part of me thought maybe this was all a nightmare, or so I hoped.

The scenes of that night overtook my memory. It was after school; it was a Friday night around midnight in October, specifically on the 13th, that always sends shivers down my spine. We had told our parents that we were staying the night at each other's houses. The truth is that Sadie, Harper, Dennis, and I had made plans to get messed up by the lake.

When we arrived at the lake, it was pitch black, with only the moon and stars in the night sky as our light, with some assistance from our cell phone flashlights, of course. Dennis brought along his big green camouflage bookbag with all the necessities of what we thought would be the ingredients of a fun night as teenagers. Sadie and I found seats on the log we regularly used as a bench. Dennis and Harper were side by side on the giant rock we had carved our names into, although they were barely visible.

Dennis pulled out a gallon thermos filled with tequila and a sandwich baggie with five joints rolled, both of which were provided by his 21-year-old older brother Zach. When we were 16, we didn't care about mixers; that would only take longer for us to get drunk. That's what we believed back then. We drank the tequila straight from the thermos, passing it around mindlessly and slugging it down like water.

As the night went on and the world got fuzzier, we completely lost our grip on reality. Our minds were in oblivion. We started singing along to Drake songs that we had played from Dennis's Bluetooth speaker, telling stories, and laughing until we couldn't breathe. Everything was great, and the vibes were good until Sadie bolted behind the nearest bush to vomit. I rushed over to check on her.

"Are you okay?" I questioned myself, feeling a little queasy myself.

"No, I'm not okay, Charrrr-lotte."

Harper and Dennis were passionately making out on the rock. Sadie ran out from behind the bush, pulling Harper's long blonde ponytail, bringing her to the ground. "I love Dennis, and you got in the way," she said, pulling out a pocket knife from her back jeans pocket, bringing it to Harper's chest. Dennis reacted quickly, grabbed Sadie off of her, and tossed her back. Harper was panting, trying to catch her breath. We all look over to see Sadie unconscious.

"She's not breathing; I think her neck is broken," Dennis explains. We quickly panic, and we rush back to Dennis's parents house, which was a block away, using the cellar doors to sneak into the basement.

"I tried to kill Harper for a good reason,"

"Over some stupid crush?"

"It wasn't some stupid crush. We were meant to be together, Charlotte! I loved him! I promise you I will be around, and I will make your life a living hell from here on out."Sadie disappeared.

 "Calm down!" Someone shouts. 

My eyes open wide as I stare up at an older guy. He had black square glasses and was wearing a blue collared button-down shirt with a black tie. This man had a calming presence about him. Perfectly slicked-back brown hair with a gray tint.

"Why am I strapped down to this chair? Where am I?"

"Charlotte, take a moment. You know where you are. Relax your mind."

"Sadie is here. Sadie is coming for me! I went to the lake!"

"Charlotte, look at me; there is no lake, and there is no Sadie."

"Yes, there is! She was killed. She tried to murder Harper! I was there!" I scream.

"It is me, Dr. Prescott. I am your therapist, Charlotte. We have had daily visits for five years. You murdered Harper Madison when you found out she was sleeping with your fiance, Dennis Davis. The story you have created in your head is not real. You stabbed Harper 27 times when you were 21 years old."

My body begins to relax as my hands are strapped down to the armrest of a brown wooden chair. My chin meets my neck. I roll my hazel eyes up, looking at Dr. Prescott. A grin forms on my face.

"Oh yeah. I'm sorry, I've done a bad thing, Dr. Prescott," I laugh.