Lady in the Fountain
Celeste chewed the tip of her pencil thoughtfully. She knew
she wanted to write a poem, but had no idea what to call it, nor what it was about. She tapped her foot restlessly.
Celeste was the only twelve year old writer she knew. She wrote books, but never shared them with anyone. She also didn’t use a computer to write her books. Celeste always thought that writing it with pencil on paper was more romantic. She had just finished a novel, and whenever she did that, she always tried to take a break from novels and come up with some kind of poem.
The, she wrote. Sighing, she ran her eraser furiously over the paper. Was this what writer’s block was like? Celeste had never experience it before.
Just then, she heard an odd noise outside. She was curious. Celeste and her parents lived in a fairly quiet part of town, and an even quieter apartment building. What could that be?
Celeste brushed the soft pink curtain away from her window and peeked out. What she saw next was nothing like anything she had ever seen before.
She saw a man and a woman. The woman was wearing a long white dress walking next to the man. They were standing next to the beautiful white fountain right in front of Celeste’s bedroom window.
The woman was crying. The man grabbed her neck. Celeste widened her eyes in horror. He faced the woman, and they talked for several minutes. Celeste wished she could hear.
All of a sudden, he grabbed her again, and dunked her head in the fountain. The woman struggled and kicked her legs but it was no use. Celeste bit her lip to keep from screaming. She wanted to run away, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight.
Eventually, the kicking stopped, and her body was still. The man pushed her entire body in the deep fountain. He glanced around to see if anyone had watched. If Celeste was going to back away, this would’ve been a good time, but she stood unmoving, tasting the blood on her lower lip.
The man saw Celeste’s frightened face in the window. He glared so fiercely, Celeste scorched under his piercing blue eyes, which she could see from two stories away. For moments, he looked at her, and she looked at him. He wouldn’t come into the house, there would be no escape, he would get caught right away. Finally, he ran off.
But she knew. He would come after her. Next time she left the apartment, she would be next. With a shaking hand, she scribbled the title of her poem onto the notebook. Lady in the Fountain.
Celeste Lewis’s body was found a week later. She was drowned in a pond while visiting her grandmother’s house with her younger brothers.
The police found the lady in the fountain, and were genuinely puzzled of who had done it.
When they found Celeste’s body, they went through her personal belongings, and found her poem, Lady in the Fountain. She had described a man drowning a woman in front of her very eyes. After that, it took less than four days to find the killer. His name was David Miller.
The lady was his wife. She killed his younger brother. She hadn’t known that he had known. It cost the lady her life.
David Miller killed himself before the police officer could even tell him his rights. So in the end, no one lived. Well, except Celeste’s family.
Celeste was buried in a beautiful cemetery, next to her grandfather. The only sounds at her funeral was her weeping family. Her brothers tried not to cry, to be tough, but tears leapt out of their eyes faster than they could control. Celeste paid the ultimate price for justice, without knowing it. Forever thanks to Celeste and her lady in the fountain.