My entry for the competition:

**No One Comes Here...**

She stood on the bank, arms relaxed, hands behind her back, surveying the water a few feet away.

Serenity reigned as the sun broached the rise and spangled through the bare branches. She nodded and smiled. It had been a good decision to be here for the sunrise.

She sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes, breathing in deep, holding the breath until her lungs pounded in time with her heart and she let go the air she’d taken in. How long had she held her breath for? She tried again.

Deep breath in… hold it…

Pounding lungs and heart, eyeballs too. Then her stomach gave an involuntary spasm as though trying to drag in more, fresh air. After the third time, the instinctive impulse grew too strong to ignore and she let out the breath and took in more oxygen to appease her lungs.

Wow! More than 130 heartbeats! But it made her feel a little dizzy. She laughed at the sensation of head-swimming and felt, rather than saw her companion glance at her.

Another, involuntary deep breath as a yawn caught her by surprise. Possibly brought on by the early-morning start, exacerbated by her breath-holding exercise.

She looked at her companion and nodded once. He returned the nod with a patient ‘resting-bitch-face’ expression which made her smile.

“What do you have to smile about?” he said.

“Oh, you know,” she said. “The morning… not too cold, no wind, but fresh, a clear sky. It’s going to be a beautiful day to be outside. I’m glad we came today. Tomorrow doesn’t look so promising.”

He blinked and studied her face. “You serious?”

She gave him her widest, brightest smile and nodded with enthusiasm.

“Oh yes! This is the perfect day for it.” She turned away from him to look up the waterway. No ripples, no movement on the surface of the water. “Like a mill pond,” she whispered.

“A what-now?”

She turned back to him. “You know, a mill pond. No disturbance in the water, it looks like a mirror. Wait til the sun rises and gives a little more definition. Those trees will be reflected in the water and it will be exactly like you’re looking into a mirror. The effect is stunning. That’s why this is my favourite place to bring people.”

![](https://steemitimages.com/DQmQsgipYrGWzx6KFudjhMgd2B5XAzXXXwM1GZ5eF7QY4PJ/image.png)

She turned back to look him straight-on, eye to eye.

She’d timed it to perfection. The sunlight broke over her shoulder and a shaft of light caught him right in the eye as he stared at her. He couldn’t hold her gaze and she grinned.

“I love this place. I feel like I’m the only one in the world that knows where it is.” She turned back to gaze at the water. “I’m not, of course, not quite.”

A duck flapped in and landed on the surface, water-skiing for a few inches, destroying the perfect reflection. She sighed.

“Ah, that was always going to happen, you can’t stop nature,” she said.

She had her back to him and could feel the tension in his manner but she ignored it. She knew he was impatient and soon would impose his will on her, make her do things she didn’t want to do. She knew that by the end of the day she’d be wrung-out and emotionally exhausted. 

The trials of the day, the memories of her special place destroyed forever. The knowledge that she’d never be able to return, except in her dreams, and even then, the probability that they’d be nightmares; re-living the terrible events that were about to happen was all-too plausible.

Still, she wanted to hold-off the inevitable, pause time and embrace this one perfect memorial, take a snapshot of it in her mind, burn it into her brain so she could have at least one good memory of the last day she would ever visit her special place.

Her brow creased as a memory long-buried wormed its way to the surface. A day spent in this place, a day not so pleasant. A chill wind rippling the water’s surface, ruining the mirror-like double-view. There had been ducks quacking then, disturbed by the argument – a child and her grandfather. One wanting to go home to the warmth of the fireside, the other insisting they stay.

“It all started here, you know?” She turned to look at him, her brow still creased with the disturbing images of the last memory.

“Did it, sweetie?” he said in a gentle tone.

She nodded. She looked away as a lone tear slipped from her eye, down her cheek.

He came close and saw the tear. He reached up gently and wiped it away with his thumb.

“Come on, now,” he said. “No need for that.”

She nodded and gulped. “I know.”

She sighed again and turned to him. She looked at the ground beneath his feet and then looked up into his eyes.

She nodded.

“OK, I’m ready.”

“You sure? Once we start this, there’s no stopping it. We have to carry it out to the end, you promised.”

“Yeah, I promised and I’ll keep my word.”

She turned her back to him.

He undid the handcuffs.

She reached her hands around to the front and rubbed her wrists. They didn’t hurt but she felt like it was something she should do.

“My grandfather used to bring me here,” she whispered.

“Yeah, you said,” he said in a gentle tone.

“No one came here, no one saw what he did to me. No one stopped him.” She looked up at the Sheriff and grinned a malicious leer and he stepped back involuntarily, reaching for his weapon.

“I bashed in his head with a rock, just there.” She pointed. He looked to the place.

“I buried the others just beneath the waterline all along this bank. For ten yards, at least. The bank is clay and it’s so soft, easy to excavate, especially when you have all the time in the world.”

“No one comes here.”

---

This is my entry for this competition:

[The Writers' Block](https://steemit.com/contest/@gmuxx/art-prompt-writing-contest-4)

Thanks @gmuxx