It was a dark and stormy night. Wait a minute, nevermind. It was a hot, sunny day in July, in the summer before I started 7th grade. My friend Keeley invited three other friends and me to spend the day on her family’s boat in Conneaut Lake. They had water tubes and skis, and I always had fun on those trips. But this time, we all had a bit of trepidation.
Before we headed out, we quizzed Keeley’s mom about a local news story that was turning into a rural legend. Earlier in the summer, a man had fallen overboard from his boat into Conneaut Lake. No one had seen him for weeks. Everyone we knew was speculating wildly. There were rumors he had embezzled money and escaped to Mexico, since there was no body.
“Do you think the fish ate him?”
“Is he really dead?”
“What if we find him?” We were assured us the chances were about as good as being struck by lightning.
So we headed out to the lake: 5 happy, reassured 12-year olds and a very patient dad. We had been on the lake for an hour or two, when my turn was up on the tubes. My friend Kayce climbed onto the tube next to me. We were screaming and laughing as we went over the lake, bouncing around on the waves.
All of a sudden, I noticed something floating out of the corner of my eye. I looked passed Kayce. Beyond her, I saw what looked like a big suitcase, bobbing up and down on the lake. As we quickly got closer, I realized it wasn’t luggage. It was gray, and looked squishy and lumpy. Kayce was looking in the same direction. At the exact same instant, we realized what we had encountered. There was no mistaking what it was, once we saw that “it” was wearing swimming trunks. It was the body.
“AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” We screamed in unison. When we looked at the boat, we saw our three other friends in various states of shrieking and horror. One friend had her hands on her cheeks, another seemed to be pulling her hair out. Keeley’s dad began turning the boat back to shore, as Kayce and I frantically gave the hand sign for “We’re ready to come back on the boat.” Unfortunately, that hand sign was a slice across the throat. Even more unfortunately, the boat didn’t stop. We rode the whole way back to shore behind the boat, screaming and holding on for dear life.
The moral of the story: never trust anyone’s mom. Okay, that isn’t the moral. The moral of the story is: true horror stories happen. If you’d like to read about more real-life horror, check out the titles below.
Toe tagged : True Stories from the Morgue, by Jaime Joyce.
The Year We Disappeared : A Father-daughter Memoir, by Cylin Busby & John Busby.
How to Survive a Horror Movie : All the Skills to Dodge the Kills, by Seth Grahame-Smith.
Encyclopedia Horrifica : The Terrifying Truth! About Vampires, Ghosts, Monsters, and more, by Joshua Gee.
Happy Halloween, and safe boating to you all!
Holly, CLP Main
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