There's something in the water. There's something that pulls people down when they wade into the coolness. Whatever you do, don't go into Jameson Pond.


Harley Greening was twelve years old when her dad died. Twelve years old when her depression set in, trapping her underwater, drowning her while everyone else could breathe. (And yet, they still screamed at her to learn to breathe.)

Harley Greening was thirteen years old when she discovered the secrets of the woods, the wild ways that accepted her with open arms, showed her what it was like to be accepted. Her black hair grew long and tangled, her eyes lost their soft look. People began to whisper about her. (And yet, they still screamed at her that it was all her fault.)

Harley Greening was fourteen years old when she tried to drown herself in Jameson Pond, but someone saw her and pulled her out. She will never forget the look on Chris Young's face as he pulled her out, slapping at her face. Never forget the fear that turned to terror when her eyes flashed open and she puked water. Never forget the horror in his voice as he whispered that you were under for five minutes at least, I couldn't get to you, how are you still alive? (And now, they scream that she is a witch and her wickedness kept her from drowning.)

Harley Greening is sixteen years old, hair still an absolute mess, so different from the girls around her, the girls with their blonde hair and manicures and pretty outfits. She is sixteen and her heart feels heavier than it ever has. She is sixteen and understands enough of illness to know that her mother is gravely ill, laying in bed coughing her lungs up. She is sixteen and she closes her eyes and listens to what people say, hears them whisper the ghost of Harley Greening is what drags people down. Yes, she's still alive. It's the ghost of who she used to be.

Harley Greening is sixteen years old and she doesn't know how to survive.


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