Everyone in the town of Pinehill said the water in Willow Creek was magic. Not the fairy-tale kind of magic. Some people said the water could heal a cut overnight. Others said it made your dreams come true. But no one knew why.
That summer, I was determined to find out.
It started when my best friend Kai and I were riding our bikes through the woods, like we always did. The sun was high, and we were sweaty and tired. So, of course, we stopped at Willow Creek.
“Race you to the rock!” Kai shouted, already sprinting towards something.
The rock was a huge flat stone in the middle of the creek. Everyone called it “Dream Rock” because if you made a wish while touching it, something strange always happened the next day.
I got there second, panting, and splashed water on my face. It felt colder than usual, almost electric. I don’t know why, but I reached down, I cupped some of it in my hands, and whispered, “I wish I knew the secret.”
Kai rolled his eyes. “You’re really into this magic stuff, huh?”
I just shrugged. But that night, I had the weirdest dream ever.
In it, I was underwater, breathing like a fish. A glowing fish swam around me, and in the distance, I saw a figure made of water. It looked like a girl about my age, with long flowing hair that rippled like a stream.
She said, “The creek remembers, The water listens, But it only reveals the truth to those who believe.”
I woke up with a gasp. It was 3:00 A.M., and my sheets were soaked not with sweat but water. My hands were still wet.
That’s when I knew something was happening.
Over the next few days, little things started to change. My mom’s wilting plants bloomed after I watered them with the water from my bottle. Kai’s sprained ankle healed faster than normal after he sat with his feet in the creek. Even the frogs near the bank started following me like I was the leader or something.
I went back to the creek alone and sat on the Dream Rock. “What are you?” I whispered.
Suddenly, the current shifted, and a swirl of bubbles rose up in front of me. The water figure from my dream appeared again—only this time, I was awake.
“The creek is old,” she said. “It remembers every wish, every laugh, and every tear. That’s what makes it powerful.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“Because you listened. You believed.”
Then she vanished into the water, leaving only ripples.
I never told anyone exactly what happened. People wouldn’t believe me anyway. But from that day on, I started treating water differently. Not just the creek, but all water. I stopped wasting it, started learning about how important it is, and even gave a speech about it at school (even though I hate public speaking).
Kai still thinks it was a dream. But every time we go back, and he tosses a pebble into he creek and laughs, the water sparkles just a little bit more than it should.
And I smile because I know the truth.
