Secrets in the Water by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: anthologies, short stories, water, secrets, mystery
Publisher: Zimbell House Publishing
Published: 2019-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

The Drowned Siren

Victoria Dalpe

Hold your breath.

Keep holding it. Hold it until your chest is on fire, until you see spots, until your ears pop. Hold it even while your body bucks and begins to fight you, hold it.

And when you can fight no longer, and your body takes over for your mind, forces you to take that breath, then let the water in.

Let it fill you until you sink, let it fill you until you are dead.

And then you’ll be with me.

“WHAT?” I SAID, STARTLED, as I realized I’d been dozing on the bench, facing the sea, the spring day just on the side of too cold. Disoriented, I shivered and yanked my coat close.

I was alone. Dense wood at my back, and sea in front, but I’d sworn there had been a voice at my ear. As if someone had been whispering so close that their lips nearly touched the side of my face. My fingertips traced the spot, my skin crawling.

It was definitely a young woman’s voice, breathy and high. What a strange dream; a woman whispering to hold my breath, to ultimately drown. Spooky. Remembering it motivated me to gather up my things and to stop milling around near the water; my lunch break was nearly over anyway.

Heavy bag across my shoulder, I was about to leave when an old man emerged from a thick copse of trees. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop my scream. He was stooped, stout, and looked to be someone who’d been sleeping poorly for some time. Everything about him from his hat to his shoes was threadbare and a little grungy. His rheumy eyes watched me.

“She talk to you?” he said, his voice phlegmy.

“She? What?”

“There’s a girl lives in the water there. Sad girl. Always trying to get people to join her. It’s best not to linger too close. There are some nice benches down at the east side of the park. Those are better. Safer.” He stuck his hands in ratty pockets, staring out at the glistening midday water. A few swans, surprisingly large up close, glided past.

“You’re telling me a ghost hangs out around here, trying to drown people?” I’m sure my voice positively dripped doubt, but truth be told, I felt a thrill of fear as he spoke. Something had whispered in my ear, something feminine, and a little too close for comfort.

The old man glanced at me, squinting, before shrugging, “Whatever lady, believe what you want. I was just being friendly-like. But you want to mess with her and go swimming with ghosts, not my problem.” He turned to go, back into the brush, like some woodland sprite.

“How do you know so much about her?” I called out, stopping him in his tracks. My curiosity was winning out over my desire to move away from the beach, the man, and the ghost.

The old man sighed, running a dirty hand over his face, “I’ve been coming to this park as long as I can remember, and she’s always been here, waiting along the path, near this bench here.

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