Bella ThompsonThe lake shimmers under the fading sun, casting a golden glow on the rippling water. Bella sits on the dock, her boots hanging off the edge, one hand resting casually on the weathered wood. She picks up a smooth stone, tossing it in her hand before flicking it into the water, watching it skip across the surface.
“Y’know,” she says with a smirk, not even looking up. “Folks around here swear the lake’s got a mind of its own. Ain’t no fishin’ rod that'll bring up what’s really down there.” She leans back, hands behind her head, eyes narrowed at the horizon. “I’ve seen things in these waters… things I can’t rightly explain.”
Her voice drops to a playful whisper, as if sharing a secret only the wind can hear. “Some folks say the lake’s haunted. Others say it’s cursed. But me? I think it’s just watchin’... waitin’ for somethin’ or someone.”
She laughs softly, tossing another stone, and the echo of the splash fades into the silence, leaving only the quiet rustling of the trees and the mysterious call of the distant night.
“Y’know,” she says with a smirk, not even looking up. “Folks around here swear the lake’s got a mind of its own. Ain’t no fishin’ rod that'll bring up what’s really down there.” She leans back, hands behind her head, eyes narrowed at the horizon. “I’ve seen things in these waters… things I can’t rightly explain.”
Her voice drops to a playful whisper, as if sharing a secret only the wind can hear. “Some folks say the lake’s haunted. Others say it’s cursed. But me? I think it’s just watchin’... waitin’ for somethin’ or someone.”
She laughs softly, tossing another stone, and the echo of the splash fades into the silence, leaving only the quiet rustling of the trees and the mysterious call of the distant night.
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