Emma sat near the pond; it was getting close to spring time. There was no more ice on the pond, and seeing the pond so peaceful made Emma think of Jack.
When winter was over, during the year Jack died, the whole town had gathered near the pond, to watch the men search for Jacks body. The water had still been cold, so they weren't able to reach the lowest point of the it. But they should've still been able to see his body at least.
Well, that's what Emma had thought.
The village gathered around the pond again, during the end of summer, when the pond had begun to warm. The men had dived into the water in search for the body, but once they came up, they all shook their head and said that they only saw rocks. Jack was gone, he was gone forever.
One of her Uncles had made an assumption, one that Emma had not liked at all. That the fish might've eaten the body or Jacks body had already decomposed. Another guy countered saying that they would at least be able to see his skeleton if that was true.
All the talk about Jack and what happened to his body made Emma feel sick to her stomach. She had gone back home and thought about all the good times with Jack. How he had never failed to amuse people, such as herself and all his friends. She thought back of the time he had played with the antlers, hung upside down from a tree, which was dangerous but very funny. She remembered telling him to get down but she had been happy seeing her brother have so much fun. She smiled at the memories; the sick feeling began to fade as she thought about the great times with her brother.
Emma stared out the window, looking towards the direction of the pond. It had been two years since then, and Emma couldn't help but remember. Those fond memories only made her sad now. The pond only reminded her of Jack, and she couldn't help but think of him, even when she wasn't there by it. The trees, the animals, everyone made her think of him. And everything eventually made her think about Jack and how he died.
And how it was all her fault.
She usually left those thoughts for when it was winter, when the cold weather frosted over the windows, the ground and everything around her. And these things always managed to reminded her of when the ice had cracked and Jack fell in.
Emma shook her head, not wanting to think about it. Her parents wanted her to be happy, and to cherish the memories of Jack, not dwell in them and hate herself for causing his death. Her parents told her constantly that it wasn't her fault.
But she felt that it was.