r/nosleep | Reddit Horror Stories • Collection

The world isn't flat, but it isn't round either. I learned the hard way.

Ten years ago, I pulled my wife’s scorched, lifeless body out of a Florida swimming pool.

We had only been married for three days. You read that right. Three days.

I wish the story didn’t start there, but it does.

Avery Jones was my soulmate—she was funny, spunky, and cute as hell. I was so deeply, ridiculously in love with her and for good reason. She was way out of my league, but somehow, she liked me enough to marry me.

After six months of dating and another six months of engagement, we got married in a humble chapel in the Wasatch Mountains just outside of Salt Lake City. The next day, we flew out for a ten-day honeymoon at a beachfront resort in Fort Lauderdale—a wedding gift from my parents.

On our second day there, while laying out on the beach, gnarly clouds blew in, accompanied by the heaviest rain I had ever seen. We laughed at our luck, packed up quickly, and ran with the rest of the beach-and-pool-goers towards the hotel.

“Come this way,” Avery said, pulling me down a narrow stone path through the landscape to a secluded cave installation under a bridge.

Laughing hysterically with the help of our rain-diluted Mai Tais, we shed our dripping wet clothes and towels and sat down on the pool chairs in the cave.

“You know we could swim right here,” Avery said, pointing to the portion of the pool covered by the faux rock.

I pretended to think it was a bad idea, then tackled her into the water. We splashed and wrestled around for a few minutes by ourselves, the heavy rain clapping outside the cave.

After a few minutes, I hopped out and grabbed a couple dry towels from a nearby chair. I kicked my feet up and sat back, sipping my drink.

Avery began an interpretive, synchronized swimming routine in her bright blue bikini. She whipped her auburn hair back and forth and swung her hands above her head with effortless grace. Even though she was joking, I was mesmerized. She was mine. I was hers. It was surreal.

But then I got a feeling. A horrible feeling. One that said disaster was imminent.

I didn’t say anything to Avery though. Since I prided myself on being rigidly pragmatic, giving credence to feelingson only our third day of marriage seemed like a bad idea.

Whether it was a premonition or not, lightning struck the pool with a deafening crack.

A deadly shockwave surged through the pool, killing Avery instantly and shooting me back against the rock wall.

Once my hearing and sight returned, I saw Avery floating face down in the pool, twenty feet away from the cave. I yelled for help and jumped in. Hotel staff ran over and together we got her out of the pool. Medical staff arrived shortly thereafter and then an ambulance. She was pronounced dead on site. The next day, we flew home, one of us seated in coach, the other in a body bag stashed below deck.

I fell into a funk after the funeral and never recovered.

I was convinced Avery was my soulmate, so when she died, the world fell out of working order. Nothing made sense anymore. I never dated again nor had any interest in women. Or people, for that matter. I took a job in Texas, bought a townhome, and quickly got into a routine. I talked to my parents occasionally but only returned home maybe three times over the last ten years.