I jumped into the lake






(1)
Tick tick tick, the sounds of a typewriter surround me. I cannot escape it. Tick tick tick, it is everywhere. I wipe my hand on my forehead; I feel warm liquid seeping down my cheek. Is that blood? Or perhaps a tear? I do not know all I know is i am afraid to know. I jump into the river hoping he shall save me. I stay underwater thinking perhaps he is searching for me. I can feel i need air. It's a horrible feeling, drowning is. It feels like someone just kicked you right in the neck. You run out of air, so you open your mouth to retrieve some. Only, instead of precious air you breathe in, it is foul, dirty, water. I realize that he is not going to save me, which he must care more about his fancy cloths than about me. I try to swim up, only to see that he has jumped in to save me, only, he shall not come back up. He has struck his head upon a rock. I swam towards him only to realize something rather peculiar. Instead of floating up to the top of the water, he is floating downward towards the bottom of the lake. I swim as fast as I possibly can but it is not good enough. I cannot even see him anymore. I pulled myself up out of the freezing water and onto the soft, green, grass. There I lay, bawling until i could cry no more, under the hot afternoon sun. All i wanted was him to notice me, to care. It appears he cared enough to not look before jumping into the frigid waters. tick tick. The typewriter sounds are back this time they are not random typings. It almost sounds like a rhythm. tick tick tick tickticktick tick tick tick tickticktick. I still wonder who is typing away on that typewriter. Who?

(Earlier that summer)

tick tick tick. The sounds of a typewriter surround me. I am typing my newest story. It is a drama-romance about a couple who fall in love, and one must go to war. They are so in love that the girl, being foolish, stows away in the army truck and cuts her hair and pretends to be a man. She does not tell her lover, and he does not recognize her. She talks to him, and see’s how he acts when he is not around her. She hates it. He is the complete opposite that what she had thought he was. She had thought he was a good man, who wanted a family, and a normal life in the country. The woman however, was hearing how he was cheating on his girlfriend back home and how he was planning on moving to the city when he gets back. This royally ticked off the woman and she never talked to the man again. The man was curious to why he did not receive any letters when the mail came, but did not think too much about it. A year passed and he did not receive one single letter. His group of soldiers while on a mission was ambushed and killed. When the woman heard this news she felt guilty about not talking to the man and requested a week’s leave. When she got back to London she bought a wig until her hair grew back and bought a small cottage. After a couple of months in hiding she came back to the neighbor hood where she and the man had lived. There were piles of mail behind the door. Most were useless cards, but one envelope popped out at her. She picked it up and read the return address; it was from the man, sent four months before the ambush. In the letter was an apology and confession of all his lies. She felt even worse then and went to his grave, among many in the military graveyard. She placed the letter next to the grave and let one single tear drop from the corner of her eye, onto the envelope. When she returned home she packed up her stuff and stow away on a ship to America, where she received small pox disease and died. Her last words were not heard by any soul. They were “I loved James, with all my heart, that was not enough.”

I showed my story to mother, she thought it was delightful. She said something else but she had lost my attention by now, I was now staring at my fathers new employee, James. He is repairing a leak in my work room's roof. He is very handsome, but he is a couple years older then me. However, he does go out of his way to talk to me. Perhaps he is just being friendly. Or perhaps he likes me as a friend. Or more? I brush these silly feelings and turn back to my mother. "Pardon me, mother I am afraid I let my attention wander for a minute, what did you say?"
"I asked you to go to your sister and have her contact her friend out in the country side, you know, the one with the printing press? I feel that this story is good enough that he would think of publishing it! Now go run to Kelsi and ask her." Said my mother a little too loud and slow.
"Ok Mother." and with that I turned and ran to my sissy's room.





















(2)
"Kelsi? Hello! Are you here?"
"Yes, I'm up here! What do you want i was in the middle of writing a letter to the head of the drama department at school!" Shouted kelsi from the second floor of her guest house.
"Well I'm coming up i need to talk to you." Yelled back Rhyla yelled back. "Kelsi. Mom told me to come talk to you about my newest story. She wants you to give it to your friend at the printing press! Do you please think you could do that?" Whined Rhyla.
"Sure, i can do that, we are having lunch tomorrow, so i will give him your manuscript, anything else Rhyla? I'm trying to write this letter" Questioned her twin sister.
"No that's it; I'm going to go start my next story about a group of people that capture a gorilla from Antarctica!" And with that Rhyla ran off back to the house and back to her magical typewriter. I say magical in a metaphorical way. It is magical to her because without it she can't write, she can't stand hand writing. So Rhyla spent the next few hours sitting alone in her room listening to her own caused click click clack click click clack Ching!

Back in her little guest house Kelsi was doing some writing of her own. She was writing a letter to her secret lover James, yes the new employee. They grew up together and went to different universities and he forgot about her but she never forgot and has been working up the courage to talk to him. But, it's not working so she is writing this letter to put in his paycheck so he will be reminded of their childhood and come running back to her. Her letter read:

Dear James,
I do not know if you remember me or not, but I am the very same Kelsi that used to be your childhood friend until you moved in final year of Secondary school and we went to different universities. I think you have forgotten me, but I don't think i shall ever forget you, you see, I always had a soft spot for you. Now many years later i realize it was more than a silly crush. I loved you. And from what i can tell I still do. As i said i don't know if you even remember me but if you do, come talk to me sometime. I live in the guest house; I've seen you gardening outside so you know where it is.







All my heart is yours,







Kelsi

What Kelsi didn't know was that James did remember her. He remembers every picnic of stolen food in the woods, all the poems they had to sit through written by her twin sister, all the late night sleepovers where all they would do is sneak grape juice and stay up all night discussing things that don't matter. He remembered all of these things, but he didn't feel the same way when he received the letter. University had been a hard time for James. He had come back a new James, Instead of the strong, brave James; he had come back a shy coward.
So now faced with this new dilemma. His old childhood friend is in love with him, and he is in love with a girl back at school he will probably never see again. Olivia a smart funny sweet freshman three years younger than him they had become friends when he had helped her with her studies in the university library. He had thought she was cute and then found out how deep and perfect she is. Ever since he started working for Kelsi's dad he has been writing letters to Olivia, she hasn't replied to one single letter.








(3)
James would try to call Olivia, but he stupidly went to a party the night before departure from school. So the next day he had a hangover and forgot to ask her for her home telephone number.
James loves to read. He likes the classics. He felt he should go talk to kelsi, set her mind right. He went to her quarters and peered in through the window on the door. What he saw surprised him, it was not the kelsi that he knew. This was a new kelsi, a sad kelsi. A side of kelsi he had never seen. Watching his childhood friend cry on the floor made him feel even more obliged to go in, but not to tell her, the woman that was madly in love with him, that he in return did not love her. He didn't want to do that. So instead he walked in without knocking, and helped her up into a chair and kissed her on the forehead. "I got your letter; I just came to tell you that...... I'm yours." He said to the still bawling Kelsi. This of course only made her cry more. Her neck and face was completely drenched so he suggested that he leave and come back later when she was more decent.

Later came. He didn't feel right about the whole lying thing. It just didn't feel right. On his way to her quarters he met her twin sister, Rhyla. Gosh they looked so much alike, that you could hardly tell them apart. This was peculiar seeing how she and Kelsi are supposed to be in bed. She had a very suspicious grin upon her face. "Rhyla, what are you doing up so late?" Questioned James.
"I like to take walks after curfew. I was going to Kelsi's room to see if she was awake, what are you doing?" Replied Rhyla.
"I am just going for a walk also, do you want to walk together?"
"Sure."








(4)
"So you are interested in my sister?" Rhyla asked James.
"um, I guess so, how did you know?" Lied James.
"I can just see it, she likes you to you know. I was going through her room, and I found a bunch of letters she wrote to you but never sent."
"Really? That's very interesting. Rhyla, do you think you could get a hold of those letters for me? I would very much like to know what your sister thinks of Me." questioned James.
"Yes, of course." Replied Rhyla and with that, she ran back to her house. When she got home she ran up to her room and flopped onto her bed, and started crying. James loved Kelsi, not me. How could I be so foolish? Why did I go to her room while she was out? Why was I reading her letters? What if she notices the tears? What if he brings something up to her? Now I know that he and my sister are together, but she doesn't! His lips upon my forehead felt very nice though. I wish I could tell Kelsi. If only she liked someone else. Then I could have James all to myself. What a difficult predicament. Twins, both in love with a man that only loves one of them. How can I fix this? Maybe I could make sure Kelsi thinks he's not interested. That could work. But I don't want my sister to be hurt.