The lake of the mountain that was not to be found

Chapter one

      Water seeped in through the broken planks and sloshed around inside. The fishing hut had been abandoned for years now, and the rods had been left there, skeletons of long gone fish still hanging from them. Hooded coats still hung from rafters in the ceiling, though they were torn, and had been soaked. The inhabitants had all disappeared, and no ancient bodies had been recovered. No one wanted to go there, because it felt like a bad place. The mountains close in on you like beady eyes, watching your every move.

        A few weeks ago, another strange event occurred. A young man gained enough courage to venture into the valley between the two mountains. He spent days climbing up the side, and had trouble getting down to the lake. He made camp just over the top of the ridge of the mountain, and slept soundly, despite the cold.

The next morning, he clambered down the edge of the mountain, took some of the water from the lake in his water purifier, and poured it into his kettle and boiled it on his small stove. When it was finished, he poured it into his mug and put a teabag inside it. He sipped the tea, and started to the hut.

When he approached the fishing rods, they looked fairly new, but the years still showed. He grabbed the old coats, and stashed them back at his camp to prove he'd really been, then clambered back to the lake. He wondered if any fish lived in there. It looked murky, reflecting the mist that hung in the dark sky. He didn't feel like having a swim any time.

He peered over the edge of the water. His reflection was dull and plain. He stood up. Everything was dull and plain. He immediately packed up and left.

When he got back to his home, his family took no notice of him. It was if he wasn't there. For the rest of his life, he couldn't speak to, or hear, anyone apart from himself.

! Spooky warning! !

By Benjamin