A Hunger at Lethe End

I shuffle around the house in a daze and pause before a photo of Cassie and me. The slow pooling of dread shivers up my skin. She looks so utterly carefree in this photo. Her arm is slung around my shoulder and we’re both wearing matching red-striped swimsuits, ones that we barely took off during the island summers. We were practically feral back then. Our parents worked during the day and we had free rein of the forest and the beach to live out the fantastical stories that we spun in our heads.

I kept this photo, but I really should have hidden it, or even thrown it away. This was taken the day before she disappeared.

My eyes start to swell up with tears. She’s been gone over ten years but the memory of that last day feels so fresh, like it has burrowed in my skin.

Sometimes I wonder if my memories are real, or if they’re amalgamations of stories I’ve heard or my mind trying to rationalize that day. In this particular memory, I am looking down at myself and Cassie, as if I’m an omniscient god. Although if I were god, I could have saved her.

It was a stifling hot day. Our parents had just left for work early, my dad took the early morning ferry and my mom drove to her lab at the other end of the island. “Hobbyist careers” is what my grandmother had called them, because they never really needed to work.

My sister and I slept in late, like we always did, and snuck a few snacks from the pantry. My mom had hired a babysitter, an older lady who checked in on us throughout the day. But most of the time, we were left to our own devilish devices.

“Ellie, don’t eat all of the croissants before we get out there,” Cassie whined at me and we scurried down the path between the peeling bark of the Madrona trees to the beach below. We skipped over the roots growing up and twisting through the ground, threatening to trip us.

“I’m not…eating all of them,” I mumbled through a too-full mouth.

Cassie was a few years older than me and my idol, although I tried to not let her know because she would get annoyed if I hung around her too much.

We were both deeply bronzed from the summer sun, living in swimsuits and sandals that we kicked off once we got down to the beach. Our pebbly beach was narrow, just wide enough for our family to sit side by side in the summer. It had a wooden boathouse where we kept all our gear, which, much to my father’s annoyance, got washed away by the sea every few years.

The motor boat was tied to the dock, just like we hoped it would be.

“Ellie, untie the ropes. Don’t forget the food!” Cassie fiddled with the motor trying to get it started and within minutes, we were off to sea.

The waves were calmer than the day before, but crests of white still dotted waves further out. A small voice inside me wanted to say something to Cassie, but I hesitated, because I didn't want to annoy her.

We had one goal that day, sail to the tiny island in the middle of the bay and hang out there the rest of the morning until Mrs. Thompson came to check on us.

The boat sped up and we crested over the waves, jumping and falling as we squealed with delight. Cassie turned to me and gave me the biggest smile. In that moment I feel like we’re invincible, like nothing could touch us. Time unrolled before us, expanding along a horizon. We would always be like this, at least I hoped we would.

The waves started to get choppier and the wind picked up, a gust blowing through from the channel ahead. My nerves told me that something wasn’t right.

I yelled over the sound of the motor, my hands cupping my mouth, “We should turn back. It’s too choppy today.”

“We keep going,” Cassie shouted back, the smile still plastered on her face. She always was the more adventurous one.

A wave crested ahead of us, seeming to come out of nowhere. I shrieked as the boat flew over the wave and landed with a thud. The force of the impact threw Cassie from the boat and into the water, the waves crashed onto her.

I reached for her, but she struggled to swim, as if an invisible hand were pulling her down. She had always been the stronger swimmer of the two of us, so at first I wasn’t worried about her. Then I saw something come up from the depths below. There was a darkness swarmed in the water that wrapped around her legs, yanking on her. I turned the boat closer to her so that I could reach her hand, but I was too late.

She gave me this look that I will never forget. In that moment, I am looking down at both of us in this memory and it’s seared into my brain forever.

Her eyes told me that she’s not going to get out of the water and suddenly she stilled as if giving up and disappeared under the surface.

“Cassie!” I shouted, jumping into the water and feeling around for her. I dove down and tried to open my eyes but I saw only bubbles. Swimming to the surface I gasped for air and climbed into the boat.

I waited stunned, and then flicked on the motor and headed back to shore in search of help.

After that day, no one believed me or what I saw. They said that she probably got too cold and the waves were too much for her.

But I know the truth. I know there was something that took her. She had made the ultimate sacrifice to the Lady in the water.