A/N: This is just a story I wrote for English last year. It won like this prize in a young writers thingy for ASG. If you type in Waterlily and ASG young writers competition you'll find it :D ps it really is me that wrote it lol.

like it?


"Bring in something that means something to you, you're going to tell the class about it," that's what Mr Pock had said. The class had scoffed, but Sam stayed silent. He had walked home and looked around his messy room, he could bring his Bullet For My Valentine CD and tell about how he got it, but that didn't really mean much. He walked into the dark hallway and found himself walking to the end where the painting was hung. He took it off its hook on the wall, slid it into a flannelette pillowcase and carefully placed it in his schoolbag.

And here he was, slouching there, the flannelette giving him goosebumps. Jack had nearly finished and it was his turn next. 'No-one else had taken this seriously' he thought bitterly, 'Why did I bring this? It's not as if I need the grade help, I don't even want it!'

It was as if he was drawn to the painting, as if its story wanted to be told.

"Sam!" Mr Pock said, and he sounded kind of annoyed.

"Yes?" Sam replied.

"I have been calling your name for a while now, it's your turn. What have you been thinking about, your girlfriend?" The class tittered and Sam went red.

"No sir," he sighed and uncurled out of his chair and trod heavily out to the front of the classroom.

He drew the painting out of the pillowcase and reluctantly, amidst the gasps of his classmates, showed it.

"Wow! That's fantastic!" they chorused, the change in their tune surprised both Sam and them. He stood solemnly, holding the painting until someone called out, "Who did it?"

And he said quietly "I did".

They looked at him in amazement, calls of "You did that?" and "I never knew you were an artist" came from the students. Mr Pock called them all to order and asked Sam to explain.

"Let me tell you a story..."

He was only a boy of 12 at the time, young and carefree and she had been 7, so happy and full of life. She was in the pool and he had been in charge of her. It was winter, but she was tough and so was he to stay out there watching her. The painting showed a nice cottager with rosebushes out the front and a white picket fence. On the gate there was a sign, presumably the name of the cottage. It said Waterlily. There was only one sinister part to this idyllic picture and it was a figure, a girl, peering around the side of the house. The only thing was that her face was a black hole.

She was playing around in the pool, laughing and splashing. She started to flounder around and when he ran anxiously to the edge, she popped up again, giggling and as right as rain. He glared at her and went back to sit down. She did this same thing over and over again, each time shouting "Fooled Ya!"

Until he finally said "Next time I'm going to ignore you!"

She just giggled and dove under the water. She started floundering about in the water, but he just smiled and stayed where he was and kept reading his book. She kept going and going 'No,' he thought 'You're not getting me again!'

Then it all went quiet. No splashing, giggling, no noises from the girl. He rushed over to the pool...

The class was dead silent when he stopped speaking. Just staring from him to the painting and back again.

"Her name was Lily".

A/N: Some of my friends said they cried when they read this... :( what you think? please r&r, reviews make me happy!! :D and i might write more!!