I don't own Charmed.

Please let me know what you think.

Lake.

Prue took a deep breath as she got out of her car and walked silently through the deserted summer camp down to the lake, lost in the memories of one of the worst moments in her life and that of her sisters, and was one of the moments which defined her life for years to come. Camp Skylark had been the scene of many happy memories for her and Piper. She remembered clearly how nervous she had been, although she would never have admitted it if you asked her today when she had first arrived but she'd had fun and she'd made many friends. Prue hadn't seen them for years and years. Their lives had diverged a long time ago, especially after the whole mess with mum…

No, she would not think of that awful day.

But it was always there, on the tip of her mind whenever she arrived at the camp and looked out over the placid lake. Prue walked closer to the lake, but she kept her distance as the dark memory filled her mind…

There were police and paramedics on the scene but it would be years before Prue learnt Mrs Johnson, the owner of the Summer Camp who still lived in the area, had been the one to call the police in the first place. Prue and Piper - Phoebe had been too young to come to the Camp at the time, but after their mother's death, their grandmother had forbidden them from ever coming back here, and as the years passed the siblings had not cared about the rationale and the memory of the tragic death of their mother had faded somewhat from their minds.

And Grams had just refused to talk about it.

The sisters had been too young at the time to understand what had happened to their mother, but when Prue had gone near the jetty where the police and the paramedics were swarming over something, she had known something was terribly wrong so she had gone to investigate.

Prue, like all young children, had been extremely inquisitive. But what she had seen would haunt her mind forever. She had seen a number of police officers and paramedics surround her mother, who was lying on the dock and they were putting her body into a black shiny bag while she wasn't moving.

Prue had been too young to know what was going on, but she had known quickly something was wrong. The police had tried to keep her away despite her stubborn cries for her mother to wake up, and it wasn't until a man bent down close to her and told her that her grandmother had wanted him to get her that she was taken away.

Her breath stilled as she recalled the pain she'd felt when Grams sat them down with Phoebe in her arms and told them gently that their mother was dead and she'd told them what death meant.

It had been so unsettling, but what made it so strange was the whole mess with Nicholas last year when she, Phoebe and Piper had travelled back in time and met mum and grams when she and her sisters had just been kids. Phoebe might not have been able to resist the urge to try to change history, but Prue wondered if it would have made any difference.

"Hello," a familiar voice called from behind, startling her. "What're you, oh, it's you, Prue."

Prue turned around and she smiled when she saw Mrs Johnson walking slowly up to her. She wasn't surprised the older woman had recognised her so quickly, since Prue came here regularly when she wanted to think, for some reason. The pair of them had talked from time to time, but Prue preferred to keep to herself.

"Hello, Mrs Johnson," Prue smiled, although she was certain the smile was fake; the woman had a habit of reminding her of how similar she was to mum, and Prue didn't really like it. She had needed to give up many of her dreams to take care of Piper and Phoebe. "How are you doing? You look busy," she added, looking at the box in the older woman's arms.

Mrs Johnson looked down at the box and then back up at Prue. "I'm doing fine," she beamed, "and yes, I am busy. I'm doing up the camp."

Prue's sharp mind caught on quickly. "Why, are you reopening it?"

"Yes, that's the plan."

Prue wasn't sure how she should take that news. Okay, she could understand the need to reopen the camp since it was the livelihood of this woman and anyone who was hired to work with her to watch out for the kids who came here every summer. But there was something eerie and twisted about this place, something she was sure was just her imagination.

"When did this come about?" She asked, flinching at how shaky her voice sounded. The last time the camp had been open had been one of the worst moments of her life, to say nothing of Piper's and it had had a terrible effect on Grams.

Mrs Johnson gave her a sympathetic look; it seemed she had noticed her former camper's reaction. "Only recently. Look, Prue, there haven't been any deaths around here for a long time, and the investigators who've come to the lake have found nothing dangerous. There's no shark like a pocket Jaws," she chuckled a little bit at the joke, hardly noticing how inappropriate it was, "and no reason why the camp should remain shut. In any case, in these parts, we need the cash."

"I didn't realise the camp was that important," Prue observed.

"Hmm, it depends on how you see it. The camp was a very popular fixture in this part of the country; we had many kids coming here all year round, well you remember those days and you're a sharp girl, so you know how a camp like this can be a cash cow. In any case," Mrs Johnson looked down like she was trying to restrain the urge to cry, "I miss those days where kids ran around and I was pulling my hair out trying to make them do different activities. I miss them so much, and then people began to die."

"What?" Prue gasped.

Mrs Johnson looked at her in amazement. "You…you didn't know?"

"Know what?" Prue asked blankly, hoping the older woman wasn't going to say what she thought she was already implying.

"Before your mother died, there were several drownings, Prue. Several of them were kids, a couple of them were a few of my helpers. D'you remember Jackie O Malley?"

"Yeah, I remember her," Prue said slowly, recalling the happy memories of the bubbly and cheerful Irish woman who'd been one of the most popular of the camp staff. But she had vanished and Prue and Piper didn't know what had happened to her, and now Prue was ashamed to admit it, the death of Patty was heavier on the mind than a woman they only saw a few times a year. "You mean she was-?"

"She drowned, just like Patty and just like several other kids," Mrs Johnson whispered heavily, her eyes troubled.

"What do you think caused the deaths?"

"Honestly I don't know. I was called in for questioning 17 times. 17. The police assumed there was some serial killer and they trawled the lake for days and days trying to find something, anything to give them a clue, but they had nothing. They were clutching at straws for months and months, eventually, it went on for years and then people stopped coming."

"What do you think it was?" Prue asked, deciding to say nothing about the woman being questioned so many times.

Mrs Johnson shook her head. "I don't know, Prue. I truly don't know."

"When do you plan on reopening?" Prue asked.

"Next month," Mrs Johnson said simply. "Anyway, I'd better go. Give my best to your sisters."

"Okay, thanks, Mrs Johnson," Prue called as the older woman walked away, feeling the cold chill in the pit of her stomach.