1.

Something you need to know about me is: I get bored. Most sixteen- to seventeen-year-olds have experienced this phenomenon a great multitude of times and it often plagues their lives. Now, don't get me wrong, I am just like any other regular teen. However, the difference between me and, perhaps, you is that I view boredom as a blessing.

Come those long, solitary days of summer, I got bored. My mom and dad were off at work every week day and, being an only child, my only companion was my computer. Most kids can spend hours at a time on that hypnotic beast, but I don’t understand how they do it; I really don’t. It’s a complete waste of time; the internet is a facsimile, an artificial representation of what’s out there in the real world. By falling under that machine’s hypnotic glare, you’re never really moving forward – or moving at all. Some people see it as the symbol of mankind’s progression, but I think of it as the complete inverse. But, anyway.

I was lying down on the floor of my room, letting my body sink into the thick carpet – as I often do – and just staring at my magnolia ceiling, thinking. It had been roughly 3 weeks, 2 days, and 13 hours since school was out and roughly 3 weeks, 1 day, and 13 hours since I’d had any form of communication from my friends. It was depressing, really. I’d always thought that the teachers must be bullshitting us; I mean, how could our 4-year-long friendship just suddenly sever due to this one milestone in our lives? But damn it, they were right. Or maybe they weren’t and my friends were out having the time of their lives together and simply weren’t including me. Goddamn it, they were depressing thoughts.

I’m not the type of kid to sit around and mope about depression and write poems and paint pictures depicting the world’s inequities, but, damn, it was getting to me. I swear to god, loneliness is a pressure that resides inactively in our ribcages. When something triggers it, it comes down hard on the heart. That’s how it felt, anyway. My heart felt like it was being pushed together by an invisible force, forming thousands of micro-cracks. But, like I said, I’m not the type of kid to sit around and mope. If I didn’t do something, I’m positive my heart would have been decimated by loneliness.

I bounced up to my feet and slipped on a shirt and some shorts. The weather outside was beautiful – like, magnificent – and I was here staring at my ceiling thinking about pain? You have to believe me when I say, that wasn’t me at all.

I rushed downstairs, grabbed my keys, and went into the garage. In there was a slick ultramarine mountain bike I got for my birthday a few years back. It was a terrific little thing, but honestly, I hadn’t had much time to use it. School really can dominate your life. But, well, now I had the time and the reason to use it. What better way to take care of your problems than ride away from them?

I removed the bike from the garage, mounted it, and began to ride. I wasn’t thinking about where I was going; I was just riding. It’s a nice feeling, you know, to ride on the wind and not really know where you’re going to end up. It’s exhilarating. I think every kid’s computer should be replaced by a bike.

Geographically, my town is situated at the foot of an extremely large mountain, so whenever you travel north, you’re always going up a barely perceptible incline. This is about the only thing I listened to in Geography and, in retrospect, I’m glad I did. Once I’d ridden through the uptown district, I would have had no sense of direction otherwise and would have turned back, fearing getting lost. But I didn’t. I pressed on until the scenery became more beautiful and I came to something I hadn’t even known existed.

The roads had turned to dust trails and the domineering glare of skyscrapers had turned to the grandiose presence of trees. Directly ahead was the mountain, immense and teeming with unidentifiable noises. However, between me and the mountain, was a wide expanse of water, reflecting every aspect of the nature surrounding it, creating this sense of a double-world. Here lay this lake, delicate and alluring, that I had no idea existed. Boredom can be a blessing.

I dismounted my bike and approached the lake and became part of the scenery, part of this other world. Normally I’m rather pathetic in appearance, but I swear this lake made me beautiful. My too-long-for-a-boy blond hair seemed intentional rather than born of laziness; my skin glowed with a radiance you don’t really get downtown; my brown eyes accentuated by the trees’ rugged trunks. It didn’t do much for my inherent skinniness, but it certainly was an improvement. I felt good.

Too preoccupied in gazing at this reflection of me, I hadn’t noticed this girl arrive and sit on a boulder. I probably wouldn’t have ever noticed her, had she not called out to me.

“That degree of vanity is dangerous, you know,” she said, the hint of a frown in her voice. Her voice sounded like a soft tinkering of bells, like a beautifully constructed symphony of sounds compared to the excited screeches of the girls back at school.

I turned to look at her. She was dressed in a translucent, silky white material that revealed a stunning body beneath. I’m not one to objectify women, but, believe me; you would have been amazed, too. Her curves manipulated the material, making it clingy in some places and elegantly flowing at others. The dress reached her thighs, exposing her legs and feet to sunlight. She wasn’t wearing any shoes.

She bounced off the boulder and strolled towards me with the poise of a ballerina. Standing next to me, she looked into the reflection. She said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. As she got closer, I could decipher her facial features and they were just as – if not, more – impressive as her body. She had wavy brunette hair; a small and cute, pointed noise; her lips were a radiant pink, and her eyes a shade of blue that I’m not sure of how to describe. They seemed to incorporate every shade of the colour, with the lighter on the outer side and the darker nearer to the pupil. It was truly fascinating.

“What’s so fascinating about it?” She asked, a thin eyebrow raised. I could feel the blood surge to my face and wondered if I turned every shade of red.

“W-what?” I asked.

“Your … reflection? Why were you staring at it for so long? It’s never good to be that self-centred.”

Relief rushed through me like a wave, dousing every fire ignited in my face. What the hell did I think; she could read minds? I laughed inwardly.

“Oh… No, no, no, it’s not… I’m not … Honestly, it’s just the scenery; it’s so pretty,” I said, staring too directly into her eyes. I turned away, pretending to admire the surroundings.

She seemed unimpressed. She sat down, stuck her feet into the water and asked, “What are you even doing here?”

I was shocked by her hostility, but then annoyed. She didn’t own this place. “I want to be here,” I replied, stoically.

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“What? Who are you to tell me…?”

“I’m Echo.”

“You’re … Well, okay, Echo, that wasn’t my question. I meant what right do you have? You look, like, 7 – shouldn’t you be getting home?” This was a lie. I was frustrated; she didn’t look seven; she looked my age.

Echo looked up at me studiously. Then she smirked and turned back to the lake.

“Well?” I asked, infuriated by the lack of response.

“You’re right; the lake is beautiful.” What?! What the hell was wrong with her?

“Okay, Echo,” I sighed. “You know what, you’re right. I better get going. I don’t have time for crazy girls who suddenly appear by the lake.”

“Good,” she said, somnolently. “Good, go.”

I almost tore my hair out. How frustrating could somebody be? I grabbed my bike and rode back home, repeatedly telling myself to keep away.

But I knew I wouldn’t.