My super short story: Puddle
I remember walking down the park early morning. The birds were chirping and singing their songs. At this point I wasn't afraid of these puddles yet. Me and my friend were walking after a night of partying. The booze was still dulling our senses and giving us that deliciously turning of the world feeling that it does. As we walked down the path, the water of that specific puddle reflected in my eyes, blinding me temporarily to the surroundings. I remembered being a kid, jumping in those things full of joy. I nudged my friend to actually do it again. The alcohol in our systems loosened our judgement and we went for the puddle. He went first, he was faster after all. The wind of his speed hits me slightly in the face. He looked majestic as he jumped. His silhouette framed by the morning sun. His laughter harmonising with mine. He landed in the puddle, like a big raindrop. He fell further and further. His ankles disapeared into the puddle, then his knees and his waist. His laughing stopped and I could hear a cut off curse coming from his mouth, before he went all in. He disapeared without a trace. The puddle was just there, mocking us, daring me to follow him. I knew I couldn't stay back, I had to save my friend. When I jumped, the puddle was no more deep than the sole of my shoe. I jumped in it again and again, trying to get down. The sound of water splashing felt mocking, like the puddle actually laughed at me. An older couple walked passed, looking at me with endearment. Probably thinking I'm reliving my youth. But the reality is worse… so much worse. The day after I heard that my friend who disapeared had moved to another city. Everyone seemed to accept it, but I know the truth.
It was since then that I avoid the puddles. That I stay clear. And every time one reflects the sunlight in my eyes and blinding me temporarily again, I think I see my friend standing there, begging for help.