Ilse went low in the shallows as well, falling into the water. “Die!” Heidi screamed. She yanked at Ilse’s long, dark hair, dragging her head down and bending her over completely. She pulled her sister with feral strength, bodily dragging her into the lake. The two of them splashed in the shallows, rolling and kicking and churning mud. Droplets of wet flecked every which way. The moon watched the two of them struggle, distancing from the shore even further.

Ilse could still stand, barely. She fought, trying to drag herself back to the shore. Both of them were already gasping, heaving. Ilse didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to try and breathe underwater.

Heidi’s fingers kept yanking at the fistful of hair, pulling Ilse’s head toward the liquid, trying to drown her.

Ilse swallowed air just before her head was submerged. Dirty water in her nose, against her sealed lips. Her eyes shut. Her ears resounded with the thrumming echo. She yanked back, shoving hard against her sister. This time, she managed to get her head above water, hair ripped, but even then, Heidi’s fingers fell from her slick locks.

Ilse breathed, gulping in air, blinking aside dirty water. She tried to look, but her eyes stung, and blearily, beneath the moon, she only glimpsed a shadow lunging at her again.

Another feral shout. And this time, Ilse felt fingers wrapped tight around her throat. The two of them back underwater again. Heidi on top, Ilse choking, blind in the darkness, submerged beneath the gelid liquid, already desperate for breath, and now with her throat being squeezed.

She felt her shoulder blades hit the silty floor. Her sister had taken her to the very bottom of the shallows in the lake.

No more moon, just oppressive darkness. And mud and dirt and water plants. And a shadow above her, like a ghoul, holding her throat and squeezing and keeping her down.

Panic. Inevitably, panic.

But Ilse reached up, desperately trying to pull at her sister’s fingers.

Heidi squeezed even harder, and Ilse could feel black spots forming across her vision. She couldn’t breathe. She was already out of air. There, beneath the water, drowning and choking, her sister on top, she didn’t feel the pain in her hands or elbow anymore from the glass. She couldn’t feel the bruises. All she could feel was the desperate, overwhelming ache in her lungs, as she struggled to swallow air, but choked on silty water instead.

She had often thought drowning might be peaceful. At least at first. But there was nothing peaceful about this experience. Only pain. And throbbing, aching lungs. Desperation and fear.

She managed to rip one of her sister’s thumbs off her throat, but Heidi just shoved hard against Ilse’s chest.

She wasn’t going to let her sister back up. There was no way.

Ilse could feel her consciousness fleeing. She knew she was on the verge of death. Not much longer now.

Bubbles fled past her cheeks, past her lips, and past her nose, swarming toward the surface of the lake. The bubbles fled her, the same way she’d fled that basement. The bubbles fled past her sister, leaving both of them behind, against the base of the lake.