ELLEN

11.15 P.M.

Ellen sank down onto the muddy bottom, the hard reed stumps hurting the soles of her feet. This whole time she had been searching for death. Like a kind of self-harming behaviour. Tried to understand. But she herself had been death. Had she focused on the evil of others to avoid seeing her own? Was it, perhaps, to find an explanation for what she’d done? To understand who she was? She’d met so many. Murderers. Just like her.

She was the one she should write a story about. She couldn’t get closer than this.

She wouldn’t be able to undo everything or relive her life. Or get Elsa back. Nothing could be made undone.

Children, so innocent and happy.

Had she actually known all this time?

Probably.

Maybe that was why she’d had such a hard time seeing herself in the mirror and on TV. Not because she saw Elsa in herself, but because she couldn’t stand the sight of herself and was afraid to see and discover the evil she harboured inside.

The water was warm and embracing. The rain drizzled against her face and she felt thirsty.

Didrik had seen them arguing in the water. What was it he had actually seen?

Her dress got wet and clung tightly to her body. Her legs felt heavy, but she kept going.

She took Elsa’s hand and led her out into the lake.

When they came out a way Elsa stopped. ‘Let go, I want to go back,’ she said, but Ellen didn’t listen. Instead, she dragged her even further out. Elsa resisted. She screamed.

Ellen was breathing faster.

She kept a firm grip on Elsa’s hand. ‘I’m just going to teach you to swim.’ Elsa pulled her hair.

She kept going, her legs felt like lumps of lead, and the water resisted her. The anger was so present, she could almost touch it. She took hold of the necklace, squeezed it hard, and closed her eyes.

She turned around quickly. Elsa scratched her on the arm. They fought in the water. ‘Let go of me!’ Elsa pressed her down under the surface of the water.

Ellen was seized by panic and struck around her in the water. She tore at the reeds. Her heart was pounding, and she tried to catch her breath. She stumbled on the lakebed.

She couldn’t get any air and waved her arms. She was scared. Her hair was plastered against her body. The water became murky and made her dizzy.

Her hair was sticking to her body. There was dark hair everywhere. Wherever she looked, the dark hair was floating.

It stank of mud and lakebed.

Someone pulled her up. She gasped for air. She breathed and turned around. Didrik.

Didrik. It was Didrik. He was there. In the water.

‘Go to the shore, Ellen. Get out,’ he said, pushing her away. Ellen did as he said and made her way to the shore. They were far out. She didn’t turn around. On the shore, she kicked at Elsa’s clothes. They lay there. She was furious, raging mad at Elsa, who had pushed her down under the water.

But Elsa had been alive …

Ellen could no longer feel the bottom. She couldn’t move either forwards or backwards. She waved her arms, didn’t have the energy to hold her head up, and ended up slipping under the water.

Her hair floated out across her eyes.

She screamed, but no sound came out.

It was completely silent. The water was still.

The anger abated, and calm spread through her body. The numbness in her fingers disappeared. She felt weightless. Before her, she saw Elsa. Mum. Dad …