The sun dances on the water and my tears flirt with the ripples of the lake. I’m sat on damp wood, on the end of a pier that stretches far into the lake. The ground which surrounds the lake is ablaze with an inferno of reds and oranges, as the leaves dance around in the swirling wind, and the crisp air, which makes a mess of my hair, is nippy to the touch.

The few souls who brave this weather, to watch as their children frolic on the slide and fall off the swing or endlessly call for their dog who has gone off in a hunt for squirrels, are all wrapped up in heavy coats and scarfs, wooly gloves and hats.

But not me.

With only my minimal layers of clothing, consisting of a t-shirt, a thin hoodie and jeans with holes at the knees,  protecting me from the season’s unforgiving winds I begin to shiver. I pull on my hood and clench my legs up to my chest in a desperate effort to fight back against the cold. My eyelids, they feint and they flicker, from the weight of a thousand sleepless nights and the ever suppressing anxiety of being alone. As I gaze in to the shimmering water a reflection appears, despite the impossibleness of its existence. I’m over whelmed with sadness of what I see:

A lonely girl, with nowhere to go, a girl with matted auburn hair and cracking blue blue lips, broken red eyes and a bruised heart. A couple of stray tears distort the image and then it fades away, with another taking its place. Now there’s a girl who looks just like me in the lake, but her face is full of colour, she’s smiling a beautiful glimmering smile, and she has eyes full of hope and joy.

I reach for the perfect image but in an instant, an inexplainable loss of footing, and I’m suddenly engulfed by freezing water. Immediately the lake begins to drag me down as if it was waiting for me, as if the reflection was a trap. I fight back; I thrash and scream but the lake mutes my cries as my lungs fill to the brim with the murky water.

As the last ounces of my energy evaporates, my mind whispers “I give up”. Words I thought I’d never say, words I promised I’d never say. But what’s the point? I relax my body; I close my eyes for the very last time and wait for those comforting arms to finally hold me close.

Just as the angles and devils were fighting over my soul, something grabs my weak arm and heaves me out of the lake. I’m placed down on to a bed of dying leaves and I can feel eyes burning into my skin. Then a gust of air is rushing down my throat and into my tired lungs. With one deep breath life comes seeping back, souring through my veins. I gently reopen my pale eyes and I can hear faint whispers growing into relieved chatter. The first thing I see is a women smiling at me, she is soaked, but she’s still smiling. The final thing I notice before my eyes close again is that the clouds are gathering, they are dark and angry.

Are they angry at me?