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Old 05-02-2006, 04:45 PM
Dephere
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No problem, guys....This took me sixteen minutes, but I wanted to post it.

Reeds swayed peacefully in the setting sun, reaching upwards in their attempts at growth and yet remaining seemingly docile to the naked eye. It was these that lined the muddy banks of the placid pond of my youth, decorating the rim of water that hosted such exuberant times as that weekend at the shore. The soft breeze that stirred the reeds pushed the surface of the water where it willed, making for a vision of rolling quicksilver that will never be forgotten.

Slowly trudging along I came to the muddied banks. My feet, sore and calloused, enjoyed the soft respite from the dry dirt road, which had carried me from my uncle’s country cabin to this oasis of complacency. I sidled up to the murky blue water that lapped at the base of the reeds, taking away with it some small amount of sediment that had not found a stable resting place. Sitting, I uprooted a reed and placed it in my mouth, chewing on the stalk of the plant as I might have accused a simpleton of doing, a country bumpkin if you will. But my worries had floated away with that unreliable sediment, into the depths of obscurity where I let them be, waiting for me to pluck them from isolation.

“Tyler!” The screeching voice left me in a stupor. Those screams were mingled with anguish and helplessness, calling out to me like I was their savior and perhaps I was. I recognized that innocent call for help as the voice of my niece, her eight years of life making that heartrending sound which is beyond my realm of words. I let the brown reed stalk fall from my mouth as I rushed further up the bank, where the resounding screams wrenched the air. There, not but twenty feet from the bank was my niece, her blond hair clinging fervently to her head as her face looked towards the heavens. She spewed water from her mouth and continued to scream for help, while at the same time she choked, coughing each time her head made it back above the surface.

“Hold on, Kyla, I’m coming.” I went head first into the water, passing through it as I never had before. The shallow shore waters gave way to the depths of the small lake as I puddled with a desperate voracity. I couldn’t let her life fade in front of my eyes. What ensued after that is beyond me. All I remember is swimming out in a fit of panic and the rest is lost to the hazy fit of my adrenaline.

But, suffice it to say, Kyla laid on the shore, her hair clinging just as fervently to her head as a result of the water. She looked up with a dazed expression, simply laying back and clasping onto her precarious life.

Kyla lived, as I had hoped, and survived for the duration of the weekend, but her fear confined her to the banks of the water, even on the hottest of days.

It was the last night of my stay that she thanked me. I was just outside on the porch, in awe of the freckled stars and the howling coyotes in the distance. It wasn’t often that I experiences these country luxuries. As I sat there I heard the front door open.

“Tyler,” Her voice was coy, such a disparagement from her cries of death but days before, “I want to say—”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I had a choice anyway.” I smiled at her and she did the same, laughing her way back into comfort.

"Thanks.” She said.
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