Boys in summer. They were just two boys in summer. The blistering sun kissed their shoulders as they played in the lonesome field. They could feel the freedom of summer in the wind. John and Paul; just two boys in summer.

"We should go swimming," Paul suggested, not knowing any better. "There's a pond over there y'know."

John figured it was hot enough for a swim. And what was the harm in it besides from angering adults who cared too much about little boys swimming in their pond? Nobody would know anyways. They were alone. There was not a soul around.

Nobody except John and Paul.

"Come on, John!" Paul shouted as he ran towards the pond. It was big, exciting and so incredibly fascinating to a little boy like Paul. Somewhere in the sprint there his shoes and shirt were lost. From a distance it looked approachable, but up close he decided to handle it with gentle care. The water could be cold after all.

He carefully dipped his toes in. The water felt fine. It was cool enough for a refreshing swim, but not too cold. He turned back to look at John before running into the water.

"Come on in! It's fine!"

John seemed hesitant about the water. Nobody ever knew about what is at the bottom of ponds or rivers or the ocean. Anything could be down there. Paul was calling for him though, and he was not a wuss, so he had no choice but to go.

He took off his socks and shirt, then ran to the water, not stopping to hesitate. It did feel fine -except for the mud on the bottom. The mud was slimy and unpleasant. He did not want anything more to do with it so he swam out a little farther.

Paul followed after him. He wanted to go anywhere that John went after all. If he could have always been with John, he would have. He always used dream about never having to stop playing with him. No adults would disturb them. No rain would ever wash their fun away. Everything would be happy. It was his idea of perfect.

The two boys splashed at each other for as long as they could stay afloat. They were having so much fun. Paul's legs grew tired before John's though, and he was beginning to struggle in the water.

"John, can we go back? I'm ready to go back."

John splashed him again. "No! Never!"

Paul, being a stubborn child, refused to leave John alone in the water. He did his best to splash John back, but it seemed so hard to stay afloat. Even worse, John was starting to dive under the water to avoid Paul's splashing.

"John! Please!" Paul whined. John couldn't hear him, and he soon realized that. He decided to dive under too.

John saw him under neath the water. It was muddy and he could just make out the outline of Paul. That meant Paul could see him too, and that meant if he started to swim, Paul would follow. It seemed like a grand idea, so he acted on it.

He swam around, coming up for air every so often, but not seeing Paul anymore. He was sure that at some point Paul would either tug at his foot or bob his head up on the surface. It seemed like a matter of just waiting for him to do so.

So John waited.

What felt like an hour, but was more like a minute went by.

"Wow, Paul can hold his breath a long time," John mumbled to himself. He continued to wait. The he realized it was much too long.

Paul had said that he was getting tired. He decided Paul got out and went home. John decided to get out too. Maybe Paul would want to swim again the next day when he wasn't so tired. There wasn't any harm in going to ask.

He put on his shirt and carried his shoes. Nobody questioned him in town. That was a good thing. People usually question little boys without adults or their friends around.

After a good amount of walking he arrived at Paul's house. He knocked on the doorstep. Paul's dad, Jim, answered.

"Do you think Paul will be able to swim again tomorrow or is he going to be too tired still?"

Jim looked down at him. He always disliked John, but never could figure out why. John was just a kid anyways, and much more than that, Paul's friend.

"Paul isn't home. You went swimming?"

John nodded and started to feel like crying because his friend couldn't be found. If he wasn't at home, where could he have been?

That night after Paul didn't come home Jim organized a search for him. Everyone searched until it got too dark to see. The next morning they searched too.

John and his aunt Mimi searched by the pond. It was John who found Paul.

"Paul... Paul!"

He saw his friend curled up on the shore. Paul was right there. John ran as fast as he could to him, ready to wake him up.

Then he realized Paul wasn't breathing.

"Paul! P-Paul!"

John hit Paul's chest a few times, but it didn't do anything. He knew Paul wasn't going to come back. That caused him to scream in terror for all to hear.

He'd never be the same.