~Lanier~ A Lake Lanier Horror Story
This summer I got a chance to go to Camp Lanier. A summer camp that focused on bringing kids back to nature. I hate nature, I would have been happy playing video games all summer, but my mom is a single parent and camps are the best babysitters for me. So, I was shipped off to camp bug bite and lined up on a dock, waiting to learn to swim.
âThis is a satanic sacrifice, theyâre tossing us into the abyss,â Someone whispered in my ear, I could tell by the sound of pure terror in his voice, that it was Maxwell, he had been very adamant at lunch about the moral and legal injustices of forcing someone to learn how to swim against their wishes.
âYouâre gonna be fine, Max.â I replied.
Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest, âFine? People die like this all the time. Who lines people up and makes them jump into dangerous waters? Pirates, thatâs who!â Maxwell hissed.
âSo, you think a camp of Pirates is plotting to teach kids how to swim?â I asked.
âWhen you say it like that, it sounds crazy,â Maxwell mumbled.
âIt sounds crazy no matter how I say it,â I replied. We shuffled behind the other kids as we listened to the splashing and giggles from up ahead.
âHeâs not wrong,â A soft voice came from the girlâs line beside us. I looked over to see a set of hazel eyes and a dark puffy Afro staring at me.
âYou think this is a Pirate camp?â I asked.
âNo...but that would be cool. Heâs right about the lake, it is dangerous.â She replied. Her statement grabbed the ears of most the kids as we shuffled along the wet wooden dock, âBefore there was a camp, there was a lake and before that...there was a town. My grandpa told me that this whole lake was once a thriving Black town. People called it Little Atlantaâ the girl said.
âSo, this used to be a town?â Maxwell asked.
âYeah, the KKK didnât like a town of black citizens thriving, so one night they came in and murdered everyone. Grandpa said blood stained the streets when it was all said and done.â The girl grabbed her big puffy Afro and held it tightly as she removed the green band from her wrist and wrapped it around her hair making a tight smaller puff on her head. âThey tried to burn the town after. They lined the bodies up in the church and set them ablaze, but only the bodies burned.â
âWhat do you mean?â I asked. I wasnât buying it. Things like this didnât happen.
âThey tried setting the church on fire but it wouldnât burn, the flames would just crawl along the wood like little glowing worms and then die out. Same with all the other buildings. Nothing would burn that night or any other time they returned with or without their hoods.â She replied.
âCreepy,â Maxwell said.
âWhatâs creepy is what the state did after,â She said.
âWhat did they do?â I asked.
âI donât wanna go in there!â A boy screamed. Our eyes were pulled to the confrontation as the boy and our counselor, Adam, were arguing at the very edge of the dock.
âKid, get in the water,â Adam said.
âWe shouldnât, you know that!â The boy turned his head toward us...no, toward me. Our gazes were locked. Sweat poured down his skin just as fast as my heart was banging against my chest, âThey know that!â He screamed.
âOkay, enough!â Adam shouted and his hands slammed into the boyâs chest, catapulting him into the dark waters of the lake. The boyâs screams echoed through my head until...silence, âNext!â Adam shouted.
âNext? He needs help, heâs drowning!â I shouted.
âEveryone is,â Maxwell whispered.
And as if nothing happened, she continued, âThey wanted to demolish the town and hide what they did.They brought in bulldozers and dynamite, but it all failed.â The girl looked over at me, âSo, they drowned it. The state turned Little Atlanta into a nice sweet lake... except nothingâs sweet about this place.â We looked forward and the line that once felt miles long, was now at its end. We were next, âThereâs blood all over that town. In the soil, in the walls and in the water.â
âNext!â Adam shouted.
âThereâs blood in the water,â she whispered.
âI said youâre next, boy!â A deep demonic southern accent came out of Adamâs mouth.
I turned toward him and his eyes were a dark blood red. I frantically backed up bumping into the ice cold skin of the girl, âIf you know all this, why would you come here?â I asked.
âI wouldnât,â she said. When I spun around, everyone was gone. Maxwell, Adam, the girl, even the sun. I stood alone in the cool darkness of the night, the water was smacking against the dock.
I inhaled the night air. I saw the cabin lights in the distance. I could even hear faint laughter. My sweaty hands ran over my face and I sighed into them. I turned toward the water and stared at itâs cool ripples. I cautiously inched forward to the dockâs edge. I felt like I was on fire, sweat poured freely. I got on my knees, âI hate camp,â I said as I pushed my hand below the waterâs surface. I pulled the cool liquid up to my face and shut my eyes, splashing the heat away. They opened to see a set of blood red eyes staring back at me, through my rippled reflection.
Gray hands shot up and grabbed my arm, âDidnât they tell youâŠâ that deep southern accent came from the lips of my haunted reflection, as it gargled the words out, âThereâs blood in the water, boy!â He screamed and pulled my body into the chill of the water. Gray hands pulled me below into the abyss of blood red eyes.