The Empty PondbyMyMascara©
The pond had always been empty. Ever since I moved here. No matter how much it rained, that pond never a drop remaining in its weedy basin. I don't think it was ever full. I think they just put it there so it would look like there used to be a pond there, and they could tell people who wanted to move here that it was a dry season, or something like that. Anyways, it looked ridiculous just sitting there, starving for some water. It was a pathetic pond, really. Barely three houses long, and maybe two wide, it hardly seemed worth acknowledging. I couldn't help it, though.
It was just more proof that I had moved to a desolate, ignorant town. Don't ask me how I considered it proof of ignorance, because it just seemed like the two went together, and I couldn't tell you why. Every time I passed the pond, I became more and more depressed. I guess the pond was a part of my life, but it seems kind of sad that I placed so much importance on it.
I knew I had to get away. I just didn't know how, or when, or even why. I wasn't completely sure what I was going to do once I did leave. I just knew.
And somehow I knew that the pond had the answer. Late at night I would sneak out, but not to get drunk with some friends, not even to meet some illegitimate boyfriend. It was to go sit in the middle of the lake. I didn't start out like that, of course. At first, I would just stand and stare, thinking about all my unanswered questions, then returning to my bed before I got to depressed. Then, as I slowly inched toward the pond, I slowly lost my girlish phobias about bugs and dirt, and just sat down, right in the middle.
I felt at peace there. I could sort out my thoughts. I was never afraid of some gang coming to rape me, or someone reporting a strange girl in the middle of an empty pond. I certainly wasn't afraid of drowning.
One day, as I was contemplating life, it started to rain. I sat there, watching the drops fall, tasting it like a little girl. As I stood up to leave, still not having lost my girlish phobia of getting wet, I spun. I don't mean just a little Twirl on my way home, I mean, in the middle of that pond, I spun and spun and spun around. Long after I became dizzy, I was still spinning, feeling my hair slap my face as I turned, my arms straight out. I ran home, laughing, knowing that all my neighbors already thought I was crazy, and hoping that now they knew I was happy being crazy. Happy that I had let go. Happy that I had made my decision right there. I decided to leave.
The very next day, as I picked up my solitary bag, and headed out, I was floating. I was leaving everyone I loved behind, everything I knew, but I was floating. You want to know why? Would you like to know how I was so sure? That rain that fell the previous night, that rain that made me lose all my inhibitions, that rain that made up my mind...it had done something that I knew was a sign.
The pond was full.
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