It was summer, hot and with an unblinking horizon. 🌞 Pasha, Dima, Artiom, and I went to the lake where my grandmother had a small house. The water was impressively clear, but that day it felt as if something—unexpected—was stirring from the depths.
We tried to fish, but the fish wouldn’t bite. 🎣 Hours passed, and a slight boredom settled in, until Pasha brought out a watermelon and we started eating it right on the shore. The cold, red flesh dripped onto our hands as we laughed, leaving only the thick green rind behind. 🍉
Dima, always full of strange ideas, suggested tying the rinds together to try a “new method” of catching fish. 🤯 We tried it, laughing, and when we first felt the strong pull in the water, our hearts began to pound.
At that moment, something appeared that no one had expected… 👀👀
That summer felt endless — golden afternoons, quiet nights, and laughter that echoed through the trees. 🌞 My friends — Pasha, Dima, and I — had gone to the village where my grandmother owned a small house near a lake. It was one of those places that seemed frozen in time, surrounded by whispering pines and water so clear you could see the sand beneath it. I always loved that lake. It felt alive in a strange, comforting way.
That morning we just wanted to fish and relax. No plans, no rush. But the fish weren’t biting. Two hours passed — not a single tug on the line. Dima started grumbling, Pasha lay down on the grass, and I just stared at the water, watching my reflection ripple and distort. Funny how even water can twist who you are. 🪶
“Forget fishing,” Pasha finally said, pulling a huge, cold watermelon from his bag. We cheered. It was icy, dripping with condensation, perfect under the summer heat. We sliced it open with my pocketknife and ate it right there on the shore — red juice running down our wrists, laughter echoing across the lake. 🍉
All that was left afterward were thick green rinds, glistening in the sun. Dima, always full of wild ideas, smirked.
“Hey… what if we make a fishing net out of these? Just for fun!”
We laughed — but somehow, we did it. We tied the rinds together with our fishing line, knot after knot, until it formed a ridiculous-looking green “net.” Then, laughing and splashing, we waded into the water up to our knees. 🎣
The lake was warm, silent, almost too still. We dragged our strange “net” slowly through the shallows, expecting nothing. But then — a sudden pull. The line jerked violently. The water churned. My heart skipped. Something huge was caught!
“Hold it!” shouted Dima. Pasha jumped in to help. I gripped the line, muscles burning, and when we lifted it… there it was. A massive silver fish, shining like a mirror under the sun. It thrashed, slapped the surface, but Pasha managed to throw his cap over it and hold it down.
“We caught it!” he shouted.
That night, my grandmother cooked the fish over the fire. The smell filled the yard — smoky, sweet, and strange. We sat under the stars, eating and laughing until late. It felt like one of those perfect moments you never forget. 🔥
But then… something changed.
When we were packing up, Grandma came out of the house and said quietly:
“Don’t leave your watermelon net here.”
“Why not?” I asked.
She paused for a long moment before answering.
“In that lake, you only fish once. Then the lake finds a way to bring you back.”
Her voice was calm but heavy, like she wasn’t joking. We all exchanged puzzled looks.
“Grandma, what do you mean?” I laughed nervously.
She looked at me, her eyes reflecting the faint glow of the fire.
“Ask the old folks in the village about Semyon, the fisherman. He caught something strange one summer… and the lake never forgave him.”
She threw another stick into the fire. Sparks rose, flickering like tiny souls.
“Burn that net,” she said softly. “Before the lake remembers you.”
We laughed it off. We burned the rinds, the smell of smoke and watermelon mixing in the night air. Then we went to sleep. 🌙
The next morning, I woke up before dawn. The house was quiet. I stepped outside — mist hovered over the lake like a white veil. The air felt heavy. My reflection trembled in the water. I leaned closer…
And for a moment, I swear — it wasn’t me staring back.
The face in the reflection smiled first.
Then it sank beneath the surface. 💧
