The water rushed over her body, washing all the stress away. She knew it would come back as soon as she was dry, but at the moment it felt as if nothing was wrong.
She emerged and took a breath, relishing in the peaceful tranquility around her. She could hear the chatter in the distance, but she made the extra walk so she could be alone. Although the spot was visible from the road, almost everybody went to the lake down the road. With rocks to jump from and enough water to swim, it was all she needed.
* * *
Mick heard splashing, but he knew that the main lake was too far away. He didn't think anyone went swimming over here, but it was either that or he was insane. He walked to the edge, where it looked like one wrong step would send you to your death, and he looked down. He saw a small, brown haired girl in a blue bathing suit gliding gracefully through the water.
He didn’t recognize the girl; then again she was about ten feet below him. Still, she didn’t look familiar. There was something about her though, something that made him want to know her. He didn’t know why, but all he could think about was what she was doing down there, why was she alone, so many questions about a girl he could barely see.
Suddenly he saw her look up, and he jumped back, hoping she hadn’t seen him. He wanted to look again, to see if she had seen, but he didn’t. He went back to the road and continued home, all the time thinking about this nameless girl.
* * *
After doing several laps Emily decided to float on her back for a while and just relax. She had just gotten settled when she looked up, and saw someone looking at her.
She quickly sank down to her feet, but another look showed that they were gone. I must be going crazy, she thought. I’m not though, I distinctly saw someone with long brown hair looking down here.
She tried to continue swimming, but all she could think about was someone watching her, even if she didn’t see anyone again. After twenty more minutes, she decided to get out and head home.
She entered the empty house, (her father always went out on Thursdays), so she hung her clothes up, took a shower, and went to her room to work on homework, music blasting.
* * *
“Emily!” Don White bellowed as he stumbled into the house. The night’s activities had consisted of drinking beer and yelling at the T.V. On his way home he got stuck in traffic, and now it was well past dinner time. Hunger combined with the deafening volume of his daughter’s music put him in a very bad mood.
Emily went downstairs. “Yes?” She said quietly.
Don took his bowl of potato chips and slammed it down on a nightstand next to him. "Where were you?"
She winced at the bang, watching potato chips go flying. "I was in my room."
"I called you ten minutes ago!" He stood up and ran over to her, standing inches from her face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." She hated when her dad was like this. He never hit her, but when he drank, he sometimes acted like he wanted to.
His eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated. "You are a mistake, I tell you. Just as bad as your mother."
Her mother had left when she was barely four, apparently she hadn't wanted her either. "I'm sorry," she said again.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," he growled. His hand was so close to hitting her that she could feel the whoosh of air when he tried. Luckily his cell phone rang and he was temporarily distracted.
She took the opportunity to step back. She hoped the call was a good one, she didn't want to have to deal with it if it was bad.
He stumbled over to his little station by the TV and picked up his phone. It was one of his buddies; he sat down and started to drunkenly laugh.
With a sigh, she slowly made her way to the stairs, wishing things could be different, God forbid nice every once in a while. When the laughing continued and no words came to her, she dashed up the stairs.
