“We lived on the shore of Mirror Lake, and for many years our lives were as calm and transparent as its waters." He said. The real truth was that their lives like the lake appeared calm and transparent but below the surface in the dark places was trouble and turmoil.
Upon arriving at the white cape cod cottage you felt like you had just arrived home. You would come to the door and were greeted by Dad in his funny fishing cap and waders or Mom and her apron. It didn’take too long though until you could feel the undercurrent threatening to throw you off balance. The later in the day the stronger the current and if you attempted to take on the waters late into the evening you could easily be sucked under only to have your bruised and battered body found lying along the shore further south the next morning.
No one believed that of course. We were the perfect little Brady family. Or so you thought. Now some 15 years later life had taken its toll on all of us. The undercurrent and hidden secret places left us scarred and weary, carriers of masks and secrets and sorrows just barely hidden. The invitations and casuals gatherings, fun times and easy laughter gone, in their place the continuous blare of the television and heavy silence. How this could have happened no one really knew. But it started with one secret that slowly ate away at the fabric of the family until we were reduced to hollowed out logs laying below the surface covered in seagrass.
In the end we had all run in different direction instead of running too each other and now we were left to fend for ourselves as the darkness over took our lives. The ripples on the water later in the night indicating where something had broken the surface for a moment and then silence again.