Secrets Beneath the Lake

My toes splashed in the water as I dangled my legs over the edge of the canoe.

“Wanna hit?” I offered Colin the joint between my fingers.

He took a drag, then flicked it silently into the lake. Smoke drifted past my face as I smiled, the sun warming my skin. Birds chirped in the trees, and the soft lapping of water against the canoe relaxed me.

I glanced over at Colin paddling. With his spiky hair and tattoos, he looked like he belonged in a punk band—but he was one of the kindest people I knew.

He caught me looking and smirked. I turned away quickly, cheeks flushed.

“We’re almost there, Amy,” he said, nodding toward a small island ahead.

The canoe scraped onto rocky mud as we approached the shore. Colin stood and offered his arm as I awkwardly climbed out, nearly tripping. A playful grin stretched across his face. Our hands touched—brief, warm, electric. I glanced up through my lashes as he laughed and pulled the canoe farther onto land. I hesitated for a moment; he made my pulse race.

We set up chairs, towels, and coolers. Colin and I walked to the water. I looked at him, breathless, and asked, “You up for a swim?” He grinned, eyes meeting mine. “Always.” We waded in; the cool water sunk into my skin but did nothing to calm my heart. As we swam, something flickered in my peripheral vision. “Do you see that?” I frowned.

Colin followed my gaze, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I do. Looks like something over there. Want to check it out?” I nodded, my curiosity piqued. We swam back to the canoes, Colin’s eyes rarely leaving mine as he paddled us toward the object I saw.

“There it is,” I said, pointing to a shape in the brush.

An abandoned pontoon boat sat crookedly among the thickets, its peeling paint covered in algae and rust outlining the edges. We stopped our canoe at a rocky outcrop and stepped onto the shore, branches clawing at our arms as we approached the nearly hidden boat. We pried open the hatch and stepped inside.

The air was thick with mildew. Mold stained the ceiling, and wallpaper peeled in long, curling strips. Broken dishes lay scattered across the floor. It felt like someone had left in a hurry. Every step made the boat creak beneath us, moaning as if it were alive. A broken shelf sagged under the weight of forgotten books. One book stood out—no dust, no wear.

Weird, I thought.

A branch cracked outside. We jumped. I grabbed the book and bolted. We scrambled into the canoe and shoved off. Colin paddled; I heard a soft knock—metal against wood. My eyes snapped to the boat. A shadow hovered in a small window.

I blinked. It was gone.

I was high. Just paranoia, I told myself. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the boat had watched us leave. Even after we reached the shore and parted ways, the unease clung to me.

Back home, I was emptying my backpack when my fingers brushed something leathery. I froze, then pulled it out.

The book.

I turned it over in my hands. The cover was cracked and dry, the leather worn like old skin. I opened it to the first page.

This wasn’t a book. It was a diary.

May 5th, 2003

Finally made it back to the lake. The calming waters and warm sun are blissful. It’s been a while since I’ve been back, and the boat has a lot of work to do. I guess I better get on that, but for now, I think I’ll have some wine and relax.

—S.A.

I raised an eyebrow. Boring. I flipped through a few more pages.

July 10th, 2003

He came by tonight with flowers and wine. This man has swept me off my feet. We ate the trout he caught earlier. Then we sat on the deck of the boat. Between sips of wine, we took turns gazing at each other and giggling like teenagers. We slept together after dinner; the rocking of the boat intensified our intimacy. Afterwards I lay on his chest as he smoothed my hair and kissed me on the forehead. He is wonderful. I am falling in love with him.

—S.A.

I devoured the pages like it was a romance novel, not someone’s private life.

Weeks passed. I couldn’t stop reading.

November 13th, 2003

He hasn’t called in days. I tried working on the boat today to distract myself, but it only made things worse. His clothes are still in the drawers, his toothbrush next to mine. The sheets still smell like him. I’ve called every day. Straight to voicemail. Has he abandoned me? I don’t want to believe he’s gone.

—S.A.

The handwriting is scrawled and rushed. Ink smeared where water had bled through the paper. My vision blurred. I wiped my eyes, but the words kept swimming. My throat tightened. How could he just vanish?

I turned the page.

November 14th, 2003

He called. He said sorry. But it doesn’t matter.

He has a wife.

He lied to me.

He told me to wait for him. That he was going to leave her. That he loved me.

I told him I needed time. That I couldn’t justify loving a married man. I feel used. The only thing I want is the one person who hurt me.

—S.A.

I bit my fist to keep from screaming and kept reading.

December 1, 2003

He’s called twice a week since our last conversation, but I’ve ignored every call. I hold myself as I cry, listening to his voice spill through the phone. He says he told his wife, and now she wants a divorce. He sounds almost giddy. Something feels off. Why would I want to be with a man who can so easily leave his wife? The more I listen, the more I doubt giving him another chance. The next time he calls, I’ll tell him it’s over. It breaks my heart, but I can’t be with someone who could deceive me like that.

–S.A.

December 5, 2003

He didn’t take it well at all.

I jumped when he screamed through the phone. His voice cracked with desperation. He told me he had done it all for me. That now he had nothing left to live for. I felt terrible, I really did. But I know this is the right thing.

S.A.

December 12, 2003

He showed up to the boat today. He had wildflowers for me. I cried as he wrapped his arms around me. He pleaded with me. He kneeled in front of me, hands wrapped around mine, begging me to stay. But it was too late. I had made up my mind.

As he turned to leave, he looked me in the eyes, and said, “I will never let you go, Sarah.”

I watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped. My heart begged me to chase after him, but my feet were glued to the ground.

S.A.

I flipped to the next entry, dated the following year. Months had passed since the last. My fingers trembled as I began reading, the air thick in my throat.

April 7, 2004

Fog settled over the lake, casting long shadows. The lake, once a place of solace, now felt like a cage. Most nights, I lay awake, too terrified to sleep. Cracking branches and crunching leaves circled the boat. Tonight, though, the air felt suffocating. Wind whistled through a crack in the door, like a kettle just before it boils. A storm’s coming.

I tried to sleep, but the storm kept me awake. Thunder rumbled overhead, rattling the dishes. I walked to the window, hoping for some relief. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky—and I froze. A dark figure stood outside the window.

It’s him.

He came.

The page ended there, but the next one was covered in a scrawl. It was nearly illegible, but I could make out just enough. “HELP ME.”

My pulse quickened. What happened to her? My fingers flipped through the remaining pages, but nothing was there. The entries just stopped. My gut twisted; something bad happened here. But what do I do? Call the police? They’d laugh at me.

I needed to talk to Colin. He’d know what to do.

Five minutes into the call, Colin was on his way. As soon as he stepped into my apartment, I threw the diary on the coffee table.

“This is the diary?” His voice was skeptical as he flipped through the pages.

I’d kept it secret until now, but if I was going to investigate, I didn’t want to be alone.

“Yes,” I said, my voice shaking, “Read it.” Colin’s brow furrowed as he flipped another page.

“Amy, it’s a diary. Things will sound dramatic. This woman was heartbroken.”

His indifference burned me. He didn’t believe me; he thought I was paranoid.

“Fine.” I snatched the diary from him. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Amy, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I just don’t think it’s as serious as you’re making it out to be.”

I spent thirty minutes convincing him this wasn’t just some woman’s heartbreak. This was real. I didn’t want to return to the boat alone. Eventually, he agreed to come with me, only because I wouldn’t let it go. We packed a backpack with flashlights, water, and a hunting knife.

“Well, just in case,” Colin winked.

I didn’t smile back, my stomach churning with dread. It was time to go.

The pine trees closed in as we approached the pontoon boat. The water was choppy, a storm looming on the horizon. My hand shook around the flashlight. Colin watched, a mixture of concern and skepticism on his face. I tried to smile, but it was weak. We skidded the canoe along the rocky shore until it halted.

Time to investigate.

The door creaked open on rusty hinges, our flashlights sweeping over the living room. Everything looked the same. Dust spores floated in the air, and the musty smell hit us. This boat had been abandoned for years.

“What exactly are we looking for, Amy?” Colin asked, his voice steady.

“Any sign of something weird,” I gazed around, spotting the telephone hanging by the wire, but this time something stuck out. “Like that.”

I walked over to the phone and noticed a red fingerprint on the handle. It was so old that it had begun to flake away. Colin walked over.

“Oh, look at that.” Colin pulled a cut wire from behind the phone. “Someone didn’t want her calling for help.”

Chills cascaded down my body, raising the hair on my arms. The air suddenly changed. I felt claustrophobic. My anxiety screamed in my ear, warning me to get out.

“Amy?” Colin’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips turning downward. His hand rested on my shoulder to comfort me.

“It’s okay,” I tried to breathe. “I just feel panicky.”

Colin nodded, his expression softening. “I’m going to keep looking so we can get the hell out of here. Just yell if you need me.”

I reassured him with a brief smile before sitting in a chair. Dust rose as I settled down. I looked around, trying to picture myself as the woman—she must have been terrified. My fingers absently picked at the worn armrest while I wondered about the diary, the phone, and the unease creeping up my spine. What happened here? My mind craved an answer. Colin rummaged through the boat’s remains, the sound of his boots on the floorboards making me tense. Then, I heard the unmistakable sound of something being opened. I turned, heart hammering, as Colin set down a small wooden box.

“Amy,” he said quietly, “I found something.”

I moved closer, holding my breath. He pulled out a crumpled photograph, faded and torn at the edges, and as he turned it over, I felt the air in my lungs freeze.

It was them. They were standing together, smiling, their arms around each other, so in love. But there was something wrong with the way he looked at her, something possessive.

I reached out to take the photo, my hand shaking. "Who is he?" I whispered, studying the man’s face. "This... is him, isn’t it?" The man who broke her heart.

Colin didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “But I think this is Sarah.”

My stomach churned. I flipped the photo over, my eyes scanning the handwriting on the back: Sarah and Jack. Lake, 2003.

“Jack...” I whispered, the name barely a breath on my lips.

Colin set the photo aside and started to rummage through a stack of papers. As he unfolded one, I caught sight of what he was holding. The handwriting was frantic, like the person who wrote it was terrified.

I can’t escape him. He’s always here. The shadows never leave. The boat is a prison.

The ink was smeared in places, as if someone had cried while writing it.

"Amy..." Colin’s voice was quiet, nervous. “This doesn’t look like a breakup. This feels darker.”

I nodded. “She was scared. Whoever this man was, he haunted her. She thought he was going to kill her.”

Colin frowned, struggling to make sense of it all. He flipped to another page, but the words were getting harder to read. Droplets on the page blurred the letters.

I think he’s going to hurt me. He’s standing on the deck again. I can’t sleep. I hear his footsteps every night. Please, help me.

A cold chill crawled up my back, and I could feel the tension in the room tightening around me. Something was wrong.

Then came a noise, just outside the door.

My breath hitched. Colin didn’t seem to hear it at first, he was so focused on the papers, but I could feel a presence outside. I wanted to say something, but the words stuck in my throat. Then, just as I was about to call out to Colin, I heard it again. A louder rustling, followed by the distinct sound of boots crunching on the floorboards. My heart stopped.

“Amy,” Colin whispered. “What was that?”

Before I could speak, the door creaked open.

And there he was.

A tall, dark figure standing in the doorway, his face hidden in the shadows. I couldn’t make out the outline of his features, but I knew who it was. The man Sarah had written about. His eyes glinted in the dim light, empty and cold.

“Jack,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He just stood there, watching us. The room turned ice cold. Colin took a step forward, shielding me. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

Jack didn’t answer. The silence in the boat felt like we were trapped underwater.

Finally, Jack took a step forward.

“Where is she?” I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was disembodied and shaky. The man huffed, his eyes rolling in annoyance. He took another step towards us. My frustration was growing, and fear subsided into boldness. I walked around Colin, facing this man head-on. “I asked a question, you coward.” My eyes felt fiery, piercing, and my voice demanded an answer.

“Amy,” Colin made to grab my arm when a booming voice reverberated through the room.

“She’s gone.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “What did you do to her?” My voice trembled.

Jack’s smile widened, while his eyes remained lifeless. “She was a problem,” he said casually. “She thought she could escape.”

Escape. That word hung in the air. I felt my knees weaken. My mind was trapped.

“What do you mean ‘escape’?” Colin’s voice was like gravel, his jaw clenched tight. He was trying to keep it together, but I could hear the anger bubbling under the surface.

Jack just took a step forward. “She tried to get away from everything we built together.”

I felt my blood run cold. “You killed her,” I forced out.

He didn’t flinch. “She didn’t know what was good for her. She thought she could move on, but she was always going to be mine.”

Colin took a step closer, his voice rising. “You’re not getting away with this.”

Jack laughed, the sound dark and twisted. “Yeah?”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Where did you put her?”

Jack’s smile curled into a sneer. “She’s buried where no one will find her.”

I staggered back.

Colin’s hand held me steady. “You’re going to rot in hell for what you did.”

Jack’s eyes glinted in the dim light, and for a second, I saw something vulnerable. But just as quickly, it was gone. “You don’t know what it’s like to love someone,” he said quietly. “She was everything. And I wasn’t going to let her go.”

“You’re sick,” I said, disgust radiating through my voice.

Jack took a quick step toward us, and Colin stepped in front of me. “Not so fast,” Colin growled. “We’re done here.”

Jack’s eyes flicked to the door, like he was ready to make a run for it. But stopped. His gaze turned to me, cold, unreadable.

“I’ll leave you to figure out the rest,” he muttered. “But trust me. This isn’t over. Now that you know my little secret, you’re next.”

Then he was gone, sprinting through the door. Colin and I ran out with flashlights in hand, trying to find him in the trees, but it was no use. He had disappeared.

His words replayed in my head. Fear settled in my stomach, and bile threatened to choke me. Colin rubbed my back as I spit up. I began to cry. Colin thumbed a tear away and wrapped me tight in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first, Amy.”

I nodded with my face buried in his chest. “We have to find her, Colin.”

“We will. I promise.”

Holding hands, we ran to the canoe.

It was gone.