Narrator: Joel F. | Minnesota, USA
I was walking back from fishing when I saw somebody beneath a clear patch in the ice. A person lying face down, arms held close, jacket billowing very slightly.
I called for help. While the call connected, the person rolled over and looked at me.
There was no rush of bubbles. No attempt to swim up. He lay directly beneath my boots, looking through the ice with his mouth closed. He was wearing the same striped hat as me. The hat was on his head, perfectly in place.
I moved sideways. He moved with me. Same speed, no visible effort. I could see a white face, but the ice distorted the features enough that I couldn’t tell whether they were mine.
I told the person on the phone I might have mistaken a reflection for a body. My voice sounded calm. I was on my knees by then because I didn’t trust my legs.
People came. They checked from shore and found nothing. I let them explain reflections and clear ice. I couldn’t find a way to tell them the thing had continued watching me after I stepped onto the snow, where no reflection could have reached it.
