She waits for me beneath the lake, my twin

Every night at midnight she calls for me. I awake in a cold sweat, and I hear her calling and beckoning me to the waters.

Dorothea. My twin. How evil was she?. I will try to explain and ask you to form your own opinion on the matter.

Twins. Our bond is strong. I know that I am fated to go to her. I cannot resist the pull of the waters under which she mourns and wails for me to join her.

Dorothea was pure evil. She had tried to drown me. But something in the depths of the dark mysterious lake had grabbed a hold of her and forced her to release me. As she was being pulled down I tried to save her. I really tried, but it had been in vain. Whatever had taken her refused to let her go.

Had there been a person, or what appeared to be a person holding unto her?. I saw only an outline under the calm waters, it held her in a deadly embrace from which I could not free her.

No one believed me when I tried to explain what happened that moonlit night. Even my loving parents find it hard to believe that she is in the lake. They dragged it for days and found nothing. But every night at midnight when she calls, I go into our secret passage, I go to sit on the rocks and she comes to me smiling wickedly, and waits for me to join her.

She hated me, my sister Dorothea. I was made aware of this only when it was almost too late.

We grew up in Maine, in a lovely home not far from the dark mysteriously inviting lake. It was a deep and treacherous lake. We have designated areas which are deemed safe and are built up for our protection to prevent us from succumbing to a deadly fate within it's depth.

My sister and I would sit on the rocks for many hours and ponder the possibilities of what lurked beneath the surface. Many yarns and stories were concocted by our active imaginations while we ruminated over the good years, before my sister evolved into becoming a murderous bitch.

Little did I know that she could be capable of such a cold blooded act.

There was lots of laughter and love when we were children. We were happy and our parents were kind and wonderful. We wanted for nothing. Both our parents were architects who designed and built our home. We had secret passages that led from the main house to the smaller lakeside cottage. The lake and cottage were a part of the family estate.

As we grew older I somehow became my parent's favorite. This was purely coincidental and a development that was not of my choosing. I was good at almost everything. I excelled in my classes at school, was adept at playing the piano and was competing in horsemanship competitions by the time I was ten. I was great at sports and was even a great cook by age twelve. My attempts at art, which won me accolades, are hung all over the house. It seemed that I could fail at nothing, whatever I attempted, I succeeded.

I realize that if I were in her shoes I would probably hate me too.

Dorothea was the opposite of me. She sought out trouble and delivered it double. She ran wild, was always late coming home as no one knew where she disappeared to after classes. Most days she never bothered to show up to school. It was obvious that she was rebellious even at a very young age. She would throw terrible tantrums and broke a lot of valuable collectibles in, and around the house. She took pleasure in these occurrences. There were always these devilish smiles of satisfaction on her beautiful little twisted face.

Thankfully, she totally ignored our younger sister Faith. She came along when we were ten years old. Dorothea barely interacted with her. I spent whatever time I could with her. But the vast age difference left her to her own devices. This turned out to be a blessing. She was not on Dorothea's radar. She was safe.

Dorothea drove our parents crazy. They tried therapy, she scoffed at that and seemed to choose the most outlandish friends. Dorothea's choice of dress was the topic of many heated conversations with our parents, I, on the other hand admired her spunk. By age fourteen she was a loose cannon.

The only time that she was happy was by that infernal lake. She was plotting and planning the whole time. Her face always lit up when we talked about drowning. Her incessant plans to drown innocent animals were met with amusement by me. I thought she was just using that active imagination which, had she channeled it into more positive pastimes would have earned her the favorite spot that she so craved in our parent's hearts. The evil rebel in her both endeared her to you, yet repulsed you at the same time.

There had been many a time when animals turned up mysteriously dead and dismembered by the lake, and there being no wild animals, except deer, around the property, no one could solve the mystery. It was not until our father covertly installed an outdoor camera that the culprit was discovered to be Dorothea.

Of course she denied it saying it was not her but me. You see, we are identical. No one is quite sure which of us it really was. But I knew it was her, and she knew that I knew it was her.

I did not know immediately that all that dismembering of creatures was her practicing to do away with me mysteriously, and planning to blame my disappearance on the dark and innocent depths of the waters beneath the foggy lake and under starlit skies.

The fateful night when she packed a picnic basket and woke me up to go to the lake at midnight, her favorite time to misbehave, was just another of our many outings which only the two of us knew about. Despite our differences, we were still sisters and twins at that, of course we hung out and defied parental authority about any late excursions to the lake.

We were both now seventeen years old, and although her behavior had not improved, she was my sister. I loved her. I may be responsible for some of her behavior because I aided and abetted her indiscretions without tattling on her to our parents. Maybe I should have, she may still be alive today if I had.

It was August, hot and muggy outside in the New England countryside. "Let's go for a swim Darcia, let's live a little." Dorothea cooed.

I was reluctant, but she insisted. She could be very persuasive.

" We have school tomorrow, and it's so late. But okay, it's so hot anyway," I replied.

Through our secret passage we went, out to our sanctuary of mystery and rocks and the call of the night.

We threw off our nightdresses and jumped in the shallower end of the lake. It was still deep enough to dive in, but not too dangerously deep for swimming. After a vigorous swim she dared me to go into the deeper end. I was skeptical. It was really late and even though swimming was the one thing she was better than me at (of course she knew that) I was reluctant to disobey the warnings about venturing into the deeper area of the waters.

Eventually I capitulated and we swam out farther than we should have. Without warning, she pulled me down and held me under the waters. I struggled and gasped for air, I scratched at her face and neck trying to get free of her. I started to lose consciousness when I felt her stiffen.

She fell backwards and lost her grip on me. The moon was full that night, the stars were at their brightest. I thought my lungs were bursting, I was coughing and gasping for breath. Finally I calmed down and could breathe easier, even though my throat felt like it was on fire. I could hear her splashing around and thrashing to get loose. Someone was holding onto her beneath the swirling waters.

At first I thought it was my imagination. There had been no one else out there except the two of us. I dived under even though I felt wretched and tried to grab her hands, but the strange woman pushed me away and kept dragging Dorothea down.

Was she a ghost?, was she a mermaid, I thought I saw a tail, probably it was just my imagination. But it was definitely a woman. I had to go up for air, my already hurting throat could not take any more punishment. When I looked again there was no one in sight.

My sister had disappeared into the lake, and even though I dived down, came up for air and dived a few more times I could not find her. I sat on the rocks for hours and waited for her to swim up from those waters and be her old mischievous self. I wanted to tell her how cruel it was to play such a dangerous game and scare me half to death with her thoughtless actions.

But she never came out of the lake.

It was almost morning when I returned home and woke my parents up. They were distraught. The police were called in. The skies were much brighter now and they proceeded to drag the lake. They did this for three days. There was no sign of Dorothea.

The only proof that she was ever there was the picnic basket. There was no food inside. It contained a pen and notebook. Her fingerprints were the only ones found on it. I now wonder what the notebook and pen were for. Was she planning something sinister to do to me and then chronicle her escapades later?.

I am wondering now if all those animal mutilations were written down in books somewhere, I vowed to find them.

Of course I was the prime suspect in the disappearance of my sister. I was the last one to see her. I had no alibi except my word, no proof that anything I said was true. All my talk about a ghost or mermaid or lady of the lake met with disdain and mockery. I even started to doubt myself after a while.

I was questioned to within an inch of my life. Being exhaustingly questioned by law enforcement and shrinks started to make everything seem surreal and memory started to blur into unreality. It appeared that only circumstantial evidence could be obtained and there was not enough to have me arrested.

My innocence was questioned by even my parents. Everyone looked at me with question signs after that. It was devastating to go from being the favorite child to being a murder suspect. I had no proof. It turns out Dorothea had obscured the camera that father had installed by the lake cottage.

Why did my twin sister try to snuff out my life?. Our parent's Will. I was named as executor in the event of any catastrophe. I would be in charge of administering all of her inheritance in a way I deemed suitable. They said she had a mighty row with them when she found out. That was three days before the debacle at midnight on the lake.

We were young. The odds of our parent's demise were astronomic in the foreseeable future. How dark had been the mind of my dear twin sister. How far gone had she been to plan something so diabolical.

Even in death it seems she has reached out her evil tentacles to ensnare me in her warped kaleidoscope of crazy mindscape of mind games.

She had been smarter than I was. She just choose to channel it into the opposite of what was expected of her. In some ways I envied her. She was a free spirit and no one could tame her. She lived her short life as she pleased and the world be damned.

I eventually found those diaries. There were people mentioned in them. Not only animals. I cross referenced them with missing persons. They were all reported missing. All ten of them.

I instinctively knew that those passages concealed more than just our childish excursions. Our parents rarely ventured down there, and there were many nooks to be turned into a secret vault. That is where I too would have chosen to cover up any misdeed I concocted.

Dorothea, what have you done?.

At the tender age of seventeen, and who knows for how long, she had been practicing dark rituals of death and macabre mutilations. She mentioned groups on the dark web. No names, but I am sure that the proper authorities can search and find who they are.

How could I not have sensed or felt the depth of despair in my own other half that would or could induce such evil in her heart. Should I not absorb some of the blame by omission. I should have known. She is, by extension. ME.

So here I am one year later at midnight August 13, sitting on our favorite rock, waiting for her to welcome me into the open arms of the foggy, no longer innocent waters.

I cannot bear her screams and wailing any longer, I know she will never stop until I am with her. I am tired and tormented and I now desire the peace of death and togetherness with my sister.

I had already taken a drink from the tiny vial of poison, and tossed the bottle into the lake. I do not want to drown, it would be too painful.

I get up from the rock and go to lie down closer to the water's edge. As I am losing consciousness, I see her rise from the water and approach me smiling contentedly. Behind her is the form of another.

There was, I found out, a young woman who had drowned in the lake many years ago. It was said that she haunts the waters and had saved others before me. Even though now it is thought to be just folklore, I now know better.

I am now death.

And as I awake from my death sleep, I see her smiling as she takes me into her arms, a hug from which I will never be free. I am with her now for all eternity. The waters are peaceful and I feel the bond of our two souls.

She lifts her hand and points beyond us, I turn to look and see the shadows of ten souls, clearly outlined against the night sky. They are all dressed in dazzling white. They are her reminders of her wickedness and they wait for the time in which they will deliver her judgement. They would have a very long wait. Dorothea was not regretful or remorseful. She enjoys their presence and basks in her handiwork.

For is it not better that I be with her to prevent any further wickedness on the innocent or maybe not so innocent other souls. Not for a moment do I think that she is better in death than she was in life. At least now I can watch over her and make up for what I believe is my part in her downward spiral into insanity.

I left the notebooks and explanation in my room for my parents to find and dispose of as they deemed fit. I implored them to be happy and continue on with our younger sister Faith. I asked for their forgiveness in the fact that they will never get closure because they will never find our bodies.

We are not truly gone you see. We live in the lake. Our bodies are ephemeral here. They are transcended into the embodiment of our eternal souls. We now exist on another plane of consciousness.

If you are deserving, or not deserving, you will meet us. Just hope that you are not met by my sister Dorothea at midnight on any night. But if you do, just hope that I am there to save you.