The pool is dark and brooding like a cloud passing over cerulean stained glass. Octopi slowly crawl out of the water onto lily pads and dark bunches of slimy green aquatic plant life. Their eyes are dark, but the small bit of light around the pool reflects brightly in their eyes as they stare into the darkness. It's chilling, the way their eyes seep into your soul and make you shiver.
A ray of light shines through the water, highlighting dust particles as it creeps through and lands on its subject. Motionless and calm, she sleeps for the rest of her eternity.
"Sometimes, they dump the bodies..."
I do not expect this from my friend's mouth, but she says the words so matter-of-factly, without so much as batting an eyelash, that I do not question her. I stare into the water.
Her hair is a soft dirty blonde, short and shoulder-length. Young. Maybe she is twenty-seven, twenty-eight. I cannot see her face, for she lays on her side, back facing us. She's clad gracefully in a white shirt and gray-blue jeans. No signs of cuts or bruises are on her body, and I wonder how she died. I feel nauseous.
I want to look away from the pool, look away from the sight of the lit water and dead body, but the image is burned into my memory. The way she lays there, motionless, the way the water makes soft rippled shadows on the pool's soft sandy floor... I cannot look away, and, when I do, it is as if I am still looking.
Panic and fear strike the body; waking is possibly worse than living the dream. She forever rests on the bottom of the pool, and we will never know her story.
