When I saw it, it looked just like my brother did the day he drowned. It stared at me with his terrified eyes as it pretended to gasp for air, arms frantically waving like it was trying to swim when I could damn well see its mouth a few feet below, wide open and waiting for me to dive in after a ghost.
There were plenty of warnings about it both in the village and all along the lake - the face stealing fish of Abbots Grimpnestle. They were supposed to act as a deterrent, but if anything the act of drawing attention to something that could reach into your mind and bring back the face of a dead loved one overruled all common sense.
At least, it did for me.
I only wanted to see him one last time, to try and reach for him like I never managed to when we were children and the ice closed up over him before I was even halfway back to shore to call for help. Now I could reach down to him and finally have closure.
Sure, I might end up bringing half my family here after me, all hoping to see my face smiling and reaching for them like I was doing for my brother but then we'd all end up in the same place. We'd all have closure, peace and a place for our bodies to rest that won't be dug up to make way for new houses or shops.
It doesn't matter any more, not now that I can hold his hands again.
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