I can feel the pull of the lake as I sit in wait for the morning. Every wind pulls at my flesh, whispering seductive phrases without meaning, willing me to go out under the stars. Willing me to go out to my doom. Driven so far to this madness, I wonder why I resist so to these tempting calls. Yet I can feel I have a grasp on this untamable mind, even if it seem inconsequential.

The frail wisps of white waves flowing down my back tickle against my skin as I pull myself off of the ground. I dare myself to step out into the darkness, into the unknown. So unbearably enticing, so utterly luscious. If only I was given a taste, would it not satisfy me for the rest of time? To take in every drop of the wet, to be greedy and to understand this secret that has been out of view for so long, just a drop.

Amidst the confusion I have pulled myself away from my shelter into the night. I can feel the cold against my nakedness. The lake wants me, I can feel it, and it is calling me. The call is without words, without emotion save the unbearable longing for my soul. Ice flows through my body. My head is pulled upward, and then caught in an invisible trap staring up at the never-ending candle lit sky. More than candles though, balls of fire. Soon I feel my essence caught in a war with the longing of fire against water.

Suddenly, the thing I had hoped for so many years to come out of the silence did. A voice, but not a voice. Both a feeling and an action. A single word said. Come

Come, come child

You are the stars in the sky

You are the reflection on the lake

You are the wind in the night

You are the one we have come to take

Come, come, come

My feet bleed against the rocks as I run, run back to shelter. Run back to the illusion of safety. I can't hear the pounding of my rushed heart. I can't hear the choked sobs almost coming out. All I can hear is the not-voice of the lake. The stars. The unknown.