Curse of Tsidi lake
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--This story is open
Apr 29, 2009 10:23 AM
It was never a good time to go fishing in Tsidi lake. To many weird things went on up there, Weird lights in the skies above, Screams in the middle of the coldest nights of the year, and mostly just because of the legend that has cursed the lake since my grandfather was a boy.
Around town most people come here to get away from the noise of the city. Others, like me, have lived here all of their life with no were else to go. The other kids ride bikes though town. That's me, the one in front. The others behind me, are the Towns' Bullies.
May 12, 2012 02:29 AM
After making the mistake of offending them, they have sworn to make my life a living hell. So now here I am, being chased by them through the town. My muscles were screaming with exhaustion and sweat was blurring my vision so I couldn't see where I was cycling to at all. Somehow, I ended up at the Tsidi lake. "Wait! He's at the lake! We'll get him later," I heard from behind me. There was a squealing of wheels and soon, I was all alone at the lake. I stopped my bike and looked around at the secluded area around me.
Apr 02, 2013 12:55 PM
I had taken a hard left off the perimeter road that circled the lake and led to the new housing development off Greystone Point. Making my way up an old fire trail I found a secluded spot and laid my bike on the ground. The ground was a soft, springy mat of ancient leaves and pine needles. I eased my way into a thicket of maple trees and spotted the assholes heading back down East Lake Drive and riding away. If our town ever needed a brain trust, guaranteed it wouldn't include Eddie Barton, Deke Walford or Joey Clarke. The three of them didn't have the collective smarts to light a fart with a flamethrower, but they were real nasty bastards, or at least Eddie and Deke were. Both had a mean streak wide as a four-lane highway. In their typical, white-trash way, they actually took pride in the misery they inflicted on the other local kids around town.
Joey wasn't really in their league. He was more of a strap-hanger than a member of the inner circle of the Eddie and Deke Ass-Kicker Road Show. He was a whiny, street-punk wannabe who followed two of them around like a puppy dog hoping for a Milk-Bone. He was smart enough to know that Eddie and Deke were trouble, but just stupid enough to keep hanging with them until they dragged him into some serious shit. It didn't take much imagination to envision a totally clueless Joey driving Eddie and Deke to a 7-Eleven in a few years and ending up as an accessory to armed robbery.
I stayed hidden within the trees for a few more minutes, just to make sure the Three Stooges hadn't decided to turn around and come back. Through the branches, I caught a final glimpse of Joey bringing up the rear as the Stooges turned onto the service road and headed back towards town. The day was turning out to be warmer than the weatherman had predicted on TV. The sun had burned off most of the early morning haze and painted the floor of the woods with dappled light. A light breeze hissed through the trees which felt good. I was still pretty sweaty. The shade was cool and green and so quiet I couldn't hear the usual buzzing of insects. I looked at my watch; the digital display read, 9:47 AM. Not even ten o'clock, on the second day of summer vacation, and my day was turning to shit just shy of light speed.