It rained last night. A terrible storm. Wild winds and roaring skies. But that didn’t stop the little girl and her sister from going out to play.
The morning was damp but there was no more rain and even a tiny peak of sunshine. Their usual pond lay clear and cool. The girls played in the little pond everyday, splashing each other with the fresh, uncontaminated water.
Today was no different. They had dressed in shorts and tank tops, which would dry easily after they got wet.
Her little sister stood by the edge, and peered in. Where’s all the fish gone? The schools of fish which inhabited the pond were invisible. The rain probably washed them to another pond, the little girl said.
What a shame, they both thought. No fish to play with today. The sister took a few steps back, and ran and leaped into the pond, laughing. The moment the pond’s friendly waters touched her, she seemed to froze for a moment and her eyes widened and she seemed to be trying to open her mouth to let out a scream. No sound came out and the sister fell, her body rigid, into the pond.
The little girl was confused. Was she playing? Was she pretending? That was very good acting for a girl her sister’s age. Shaking her head, the little girl leaped in to tackle her sister. Their skins touched and the girl felt as if something rushed through her body really fast. It didn’t hurt and her whole body went stiff.
Like her sister, the girl fell face first into the pond. She felt nothing more after that.
Their dad’s morning chores on the farm were done, feeding the animals and letting the horses out to graze. I should go say hi to my girls, he thought.
He walked, his stride long and jolly, towards the little pond. He called their names, hoping for them to come running into his arms. None of his girls came. How strange, he thought. They always come running when I call them. He called again. Nothing. Now the dad was worried.
He rushed to the pond and before anything, he saw a long, black, snake-like wire, dangling from a high electric pole and draping itself into the pond.
And there, lay the lifeless bodies of his young daughters, the light of his life, his little rays of sunshine. He stared in shock, in sadness and in grief. How had he been so careless?
The bodies floated together, harmonising peacefully. The dad cried and screamed and leaped. And as he touched the water with his strong body and his strong arms that used to hold the little girls, he, like his girls, felt no pain. Then there was nothing.
In the little pond on a remote farm, lay three, sad bodies. Father and his two beautiful daughters. Three lives. Three lives ended in a matter of minutes.
Lazy B 