This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/sunshine_dreaming on 2026-05-29 16:30:36+00:00.

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“Here we go,” I huffed under my breath. I killed the engine and pushed open the car door.

I was in my own driveway, or I guess I should say my parent’s driveway. The drive from Chicago had been long, and I stretched my legs, wincing as my knees cracked.

I was home for winter break. The university was closed the week of Christmas and the one after, so I had packed to stay for a couple days. I pulled my duffel bag out of the backseat and hoisted it onto my shoulder and then marched up the steps to the front porch, where I sat it down again to locate my keys in my purse. I always kept a spare to my parent’s house, even though I was rarely here.

Before I could find them, however, the door was opened and I was staring straight at my sister Amy. She smiled big and pulled me into a hug before I could even say anything, my chin pressed into the itchy white wool of her oversized sweater.

“I didn’t expect you until after dinner,” she said. “You must have made good time.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” I tried to muster some enthusiasm for being with her, for being with the family, but I could only find the mild awkwardness that comes from no longer being in each others lives.

I followed her inside and dropped my duffel in my old bedroom. The old, sun-faded posters of Blink-182 and Heath Ledger still hung on the walls, and piles of my old books stood in the corners. I had repeatedly told mom she could trash all this stuff, but she never did.

I came back downstairs and joined my sister in the kitchen. The TV in the adjoining living room blared ESPN with predictions for the upcoming football game.

I sat on a bar stool around the kitchen island and grabbed a tortilla chip straight from the bag. My sister was whisking something in a bowl. A cake mix, it looked like. I stared at her long, chestnut braid, perfectly messy, and her casually uncasual outfit of well- fitting jeans and expensive loafers. Meanwhile, I hadn't even showered today, and I was wearing an ancient sweatshirt and a pair of leggings with a tiny hole near the crotch.

It was hard to believe we were twins.

Growing up, no one ever guessed we were sisters, let alone twins, at least not after we hit puberty. Before that, we had always been more the same, more evenly matched in our appearance. Everything had changed when we went to high school, when she turned into a polished princess and I remained an ugly duckling.

My sister Amy had just finished up law school while I worked slightly above minimum wage at Whole Foods. We weren’t on the same trajectory anymore, not even in the same universe.

“Where’s mom?” I asked.

“Oh, they went out for Dad’s office Christmas party. They should be home by 8, I think.”

I nodded, crunching another chip. “Do you need help? Or do you mind if I go out and take a walk? I need to stretch my legs after being in the car so long.” It wasn’t a lie. Just a half truth. Being around Amy was hard for me sometimes, and I was gearing up to be around her, and the rest of the family, for several days.

“No, I’m good, go ahead. If you want a headlamp for the trail, dad’s got some over by the door.” The light outside was already fading, but I didn’t mind. This was my favorite time of day. I zipped up my puffer and took Amy’s advice on the headlamp, shoving the light into my pocket.

“I won’t be gone long,” I said as I stepped out the door into the crisp air. The door clicked closed behind me and I was alone in the winter evening.

The wind blew dry leaves and rustled the ornamental grass my mother had planted years ago. I could still hear the muffled sound of the TV, but that faded as I began to briskly walk around to the side of the driveway and around to the back of the house.

My parents lived in a remote area that backed up to a large nature preserve. Years ago my father had started creating our own shortcut by mowing the tall prairie grass that began where our lawn ended. This simple path eventually connected to the real trails created by the hardworking volunteers at the nature preserve. They led all throughout the area, through a wooded area and around the grassland; but the best trail led to a beach on the shore of a large, glistening, freshwater lake.

My sneakers crunched the dry grass stubble as I entered the trail. The tall native grasses swayed around me like ocean waves as I pressed onward. It did feel good to walk after sitting for so many hours in the car, and the faster I walked the better I felt. It was cold, but I began to warm up as I trudged along.

A group of birds shot out of the tall grass, startling me. They squawked as they rose higher and higher into the air.

I trudged on, the path eventually giving way to a real trail and I knew I had entered the park. A few minutes later I emerged from the tall grass onto a slim, sandy beach surrounding a wide, shimmering lake. A sheet of ice lay on the top.

I shivered. This was the place where I’d had one of the scariest days of my life.

I hadn’t really meant to walk here; actually, I had meant to take one of the other paths, but I must have gotten confused.

My brain dredged some unpleasant memories to the surface.

The summer we turned 14, my sister and I had snuck out here and gone for a swim. It was one of those days right before school started, when no one’s really watching you and your home alone for long, incredibly boring stretches of time, and you get into more mischief than you ever would normally.

The swim had been my idea. It was totally forbidden, of course. Not only did our parents not allow us to swim unsupervised, but all swimming was prohibited in the lake itself. The lake was a glacial lake, long and deep and wide. Years ago some people had drowned in it, and after that they closed it to swimming.

But the day had been hot; and we had been bored. So Amy and I put on our bathing suits and pulled our cutoffs and T shirts on top of them and snuck out the back door. As long as we were back by 3, I determined, that would give us enough time to shower and hide our wet clothes before mom arrived home from work.

The water had been shockingly cold, ice cold, and we had screamed with delight after jumping off the small fishing dock.

“Race you!” I’d shouted, before diving underwater. I held my breath and swam as hard as I could without breaking the surface. When I finally came up for air, Amy was right there, trailing behind me. We swam there, treading water, taking great big gasps of air. We were far from shore- farther out than ever before.

I dipped my head back under. Even with my goggles on, I wasn’t sure if I was really looking at the bottom or just murky shadows. Either way, there was nothing for us to stand on, and we’d have to turn back soon.

And that’s when it caught my eye. The silver streak, glinting in the weak filtered sunlight that struck the bottom.

“Amy,” I said, when I popped back up. “There’s something down there.”

We took turns with the goggles, getting a better look at the metallic object down below. It was big, bigger than a car. Maybe bigger than a boat.

It was a giant, silvery orb, resting on the bottom of the lakebed.

I knew we needed to get back to shore; I was already getting tired of treading water. But I couldn’t bring myself to say so. I felt a weird, morbid curiosity about the unknown object, and I could tell Amy did too. We had gone quiet now. And that’s when I said it.

“I bet you can’t touch it,” I said quietly.

She stared back at me and gave me a look. Challenge accepted. She pulled the goggles back over her eyes and took a deep breath before plunging under.

I kicked my legs in circles and waited for her to report back.

Amy didn’t come back up.

Time moves strangely in situations like that; I don’t know if thirty seconds or five passed before I became concerned. All I know is that I had a bad feeling and began to panic. There was no one around, absolutely no one. That had seemed like a good thing earlier- no one to tell on us, but now I was worried there was no one to get help. I began to flail and put my head under, looking for her with my eyes opened, but everything remained a murky blur.

“AMY!” I shouted. “AMY!!”

When there was no answer, I yelled, “HELP!”

But no one came. I then tried to go after her, diving down towards the blurry gray smear on the bottom, hoping to find her. I never even made it halfway before I felt my lungs burning and turned back towards the surface.

Panic overwhelmed me. “AMY!” I screamed, with tears running down my face. A black pit had opened up in my stomach. I had done something awful. It had been my idea for her to reach the bottom. This was all my fault.

I knew then I had to get help. I began swimming as hard as I could towards shore and the dock. I closed my eyes and swam with every ounce of strength I had, pushing against the cold water with desperation.

When I felt my feet touch the rock of the shoreline I lifted my face out of the water and there she was.

Amy was sitting on the beach, waiting for me.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “How did you get back here?” I gasped out. My adrenaline turned to relief, and I started to sob. “I thought you were dead,” I choked out.

“I’ve been right here,” she said.

And that’s when I took a closer look at her. It was Amy, but.. Something seemed off. Her brown eyes flashed a hint of yellow that I’d never seen before. I looked away. It felt weird. And I felt stupid for getting s...

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