Fairy Lake

“Have you ever heard about Fairy Lake? It’s a special place, kept hidden away from the rest of the world, frozen winter, spring, summer, and fall, the water so clear and perfect that you can see every grain of sand along the bottom, every particle untouched by time. The locals say it's cursed, the true story long forgotten. No one dares go near it, no one except those that feel the call anyway.

“Within this icebound tomb slumbers a young woman, found in the late summer, long after the water should have thawed. Or maybe it was early fall? The events leading to her discovery were so long ago, that no one who witnessed it remains. Well, no one except the girl in the lake. There were no records of who she was or how she got there. No justice or ‘give-a-damn'. The town simply chose to forget her, and the history sealed away with her forever in her mausoleum.

“That’s what I’ve heard and now believe.

“She faced something truly horrible to end up where she is now.

“The villagers didn’t care until the second girl disappeared, her visage reported underneath the ice, just like the first victim. The parents had been devastated, and thorough reports had been kept on her disappearance. The authorities had ruled it suicide, with no evidence to the contrary. Two daunting questions still loomed over the townspeople: what could have driven an innocent girl with such a bright future to kill herself? And if she hadn’t, who was the killer hiding in their midst?

“Then the third, fourth, and fifth girl vanished. No were bodies ever found, just their eerie images frozen beneath the ice, gone as quickly as they were seen. The only connection established between any of the girls was a broken heart. Every attempt to free the girls ended in vain. And once the girls’ faces were seen, their bodies were gone. No one could explain how they got into the seemingly impenetrable water or where they disappeared once someone saw them within. Nor could anyone explain why this single woman still remains, watching, shielding, haunting.

“I tell you this story because I now know who this woman is, the torment she suffers, and the injustice done unto her.

“Just like all the others, I too heard her call. Soft. Calming. Lonely. Angry.

“Her voice resounded in my soul. She knew my pain, and I could only begin to fathom hers. Nothing could repair what had been done, and so she sleeps for eternity, here with her sisters.

“I remember a boy. I suppose he was a young man by all rights. I loved him dearly. And he loved me. We were to be wed, in secret. Neither of our parents agreed to our union, but we could not be separated. Nothing could keep us apart, not my father’s threats nor his father’s witch-hunts. Nothing except his duty.

“I’ll never forget the day the letter came. His father said nothing, silently commanding his obedience. And there was nothing to be done, no one could ignore the summons. In those times, while you could run to avoid the draft, you would be subjugating your home to persecution. And so, he left, bullied out by the very people he was going to protect.

“I had never known such loneliness. That was the first time I heard her call. She knew that heartache all too well, the pain of missing your other half, not knowing where they were or if they were well, forever bound in icy grief, unable to move forward.

“Her song comforted me, gave me hope and the strength to go on while feeling I wasn’t alone. I didn’t know why she came to me, cared for me, until later. When the notice came.

“My love. My heart. My soul. The man I had pledged to spend the rest of my life with, was dead. They told me it was all a part of his duty. But I knew, I knew that if we had just run away, if my parents hadn’t been so insistent, if his father hadn’t sent his enlistment forms, he would still be here. With me.

“That was the second time I felt her. This time she touched me, the chill soothing to my burning rage. Why would they do this? What was so wrong about our love that they would drive us apart and kill us? What did our differences have to do with our love? What did other’s opinions have to do with how he cared for me, or how I cared for him? What did I have to do with the kind of work he would have? What did he have to do with the kind of mother I would have been? What did our genes have to do with the kind of children we would have raised?

“How could those around us only see with fear and prejudice instead of understanding and kindness. Sure, something new can be scary. New experiences are always terrifying because they’re something we’ve never done or seen before. That doesn’t make them wrong or evil.

“I think that’s what she craved. She had wanted to live in peace with her mate, carrying out their duties just like every other living creature. It wasn’t until fear and false beliefs were introduced that they became evil. Unwanted.

“The sad fact is, no one can stop time or what time represents. Progression. Every story comes with pain. Every chapter holds a misguided rumor. Every ending conceals the discomfort of growth. Every beginning masks the fractures along the journey.

“Perhaps, if in a different time, a different place, this tale would have been a happy one. Perhaps, if families would simply ask questions and open their hearts, loved ones would be spared and a true community built.

“Perhaps, if not for the color of my skin, I would not have found this place. Forever we slumber, wrapped in the embrace of the one that came first. She cannot leave until her love is returned, and he will never come again. This place, their private paradise, was forever violated. And so, she waits, with us, claiming those who are driven from their partners and frozen in mourning, until the day we can find them once again.”