Dead Man’s Float : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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When I first did the dead man’s float, I was in the pool with my mom as she gently held me up to the sky.

Everything was muffled when I was floating on the water, like the world had been wrapped in a thick layer of cotton. My mom’s voice was a gentle hum in the background as my chest rose and fell.

I asked my mom if she liked doing the dead man’s float too.

She nodded. “It’s peaceful, sometimes, to just lie there. It’s a rest for your brain.”

“Do you like resting your brain, mommy?” I forgot to steady my breathing, and I yelped as I began to sink into the water.

My mother gently lifted me up, our closeness making the water feel less cold. She winced as I clung onto her shoulders. “Yeah. Sometimes my brain thinks a bit too hard. A rest is nice.”

I still go to the pool whenever I’m stressed and just lie there, letting everything fade away as I enter the water’s cool, silent embrace, and just breathe.

Sometimes, I imagine my mother is there, holding my back gently, allowing me to float. I imagine she’s there, holding me up and talking to me.

“Why’d you do it?” I asked.

My grades were pretty subpar that semester, and my father had gotten pretty pissed at me. I really wish I had better reflexes.

“My brain just needed a rest,” my mom responded, her hand pressing gently on my bruised back. “I was just so tired, and the water is nice.”

“You left me behind,” I whispered in response. “I feel like everything is falling apart. Dad fucking hates me.”

“Your father is a hateful man,” my mom responded sadly. “I wish I’d known that sooner.”

“You loved me, right?”

“Of course. I always will.”

The hand at my back didn’t waver, but it somehow felt more solid at that moment.

“Come with me, and just take a rest.”

The hand on my back suddenly clutched onto the straps of my swimsuit, and tugged at me gently, and I felt myself slipping into the water. The water’s coolness was jarring, and the hand began to pull me fully under, with a firm yet somehow kind grip.

I felt the air leaving my lungs, and I saw the arms of my mom coming up to wrap around me.

They looked as shriveled and dead as they had when I’d found her face-down in the pool.

As I sank, panic set in, and I desperately pushed myself up. I wrenched from my mom’s hold and broke the water’s surface with a loud gasp.

I turned on my back, lying upwards, sighing as I breathed gently. “I love you, but I don’t want to go with you.”

The key to the feelings of peace that came with the dead man’s float was to be alive.

A hand came up to my back, gently pushing me up to the sky.

“I love you too.”

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