Curiosity Killed the Kat
Rian Slate
Grey fog surrounded her feet, marking them with a blackish tint that would anger her mother later. She stood on the edge of the river, staring over the edge, not wanting to fall—she wanted to jump, on her own accord. She had been waiting for her sister to get back, but it had been hours; she was sure that her sister had gotten scared and didn’t want to come back out in the rain. She could just see her twin hugging their mother, blubbering something almost unintelligible about not wanting to slip into the river.
Well, sister, I’ll show you that nothing bad can happen from simply being curious about what’s at the bottom of the river, she thought.
“Kat, you don’t have to jump. I don’t care what’s at the bottom of the river anymore,” she heard her sister say from behind her. She turned, and her mirror image was staring back with eyes more focused than usual.
“I’m not scared,” Kat said, but her shaky voice gave her away.
“Neither am I.” Her sister walked up next to her and took her hand firmly.
Deep breaths, Kat, there’s nothing to be afraid of. At the bottom of the ledge, there’s only water, she told herself.
“Should we jump now?” Kat’s sister sounded nervous. Kat took her last deep breath, and launched herself into the air. She felt her sister’s hand being torn from hers and saw Mia trying to stay planted on the ledge, her feet scraping at the ground, digging up loose dirt. She lost her balance and slipped off the ledge anyway. They both were falling now towards the river, and as they fell, their eyes met in a moment of mutual understanding.
Don’t be scared.
Mia let out a shriek of joy as she held her knees to her chest, ready to hit the water, her face scrunched up and her eyes closed. Kat hit first, and the impact of it sent her arms and legs shooting forward.
“What’s at the bottom, Kat? Kat?” Mia asked, still in the air. Kat couldn’t feel her body and the swirling river pulled her under, head first.