He Called Me From The Darkness, But Wasn’t He Dead?

Shea Oliver
Apr 10 · 2 min read

I heard my name.

Even in the dark of night, I recognized the voice.

But it couldn’t be. The owner of the voice drowned at sea.

He called me again from a distance.

I quickly headed down the beach, towards the ocean.

“Oh, please help me!” he cried out in pain.

I ran faster. He kept calling, and I kept running.

My thoughts screamed at me; this can’t be real. But I ignored the logical workings of my mind.

He was my best mate. We’d known each other since childhood.

I missed him more than I admitted to myself.

“Don’t leave me here!” he begged.

I ran even faster, stumbling over the rocks marking the edge of the ocean at low tide.

“I’m coming,” I cried out, “where are you?”

Silence replied. Its cold fingers caressing my skin.

I shivered and fell to my knees. Tears dripped from my eyes.

The memories creep into my thoughts, overwhelming me.

Childhood games. Teenage shenanigans. Friendship.

I sat in the wet sand; my thoughts reminiscing through the good and the bad.

It all ended too soon. I wished it could’ve gone on forever without that one regret.

“It can and it will,” I heard him say.

The panic missing from his voice. “The tide’s come back in.”

I jumped to my feet, knowing the truth.

Surrounded by black rising water, I screamed, “I can’t swim.”

I heard his menacing laugh, realizing he knew that it was me who drowned him in the sea.


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Shea Oliver is a writer, entrepreneur, and nature junkie. Visit SheaOliver.com. All images used under royalty-free license from Dreamstime.com.

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Shea Oliver

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Seeking tacos, chocolate, & funky zen ☞ https://SheaOliver.com ✦ Get a FREE copy of my first novel, The Betrayal of Ka. Visit http://SheaOliver.com/book4free

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

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