I’m going to tell you a story
It’s going to involve a boy
And the ways our memories are preserved to us
Oh and maybe a hint of water
Welcome to the Aurora Wasteland
The destructive power of water is vastly underrated.
In 2013, the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains experienced a catastrophic flood that changed Heart Creek valley overnight.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, let’s go back to the beginning.
Every year students from nearby schools travel to the rocky mountains to partake in the beauty and learn about rocks, it’s the second of the two that they couldn’t care less about.
The true understanding of time is lost on youth, and how could you really expect them to understand it, you need to experience enough time to understand it’s scope.
So, like most kids that are forced to endure this annual trek into the mountains, William wanted nothing to do with it.
The morning of the field trip, he tried to convince his mother that he was ill, he told her that he could barely talk and that his tummy was upset. She bought none of it and sent him to school.
There he climbed on board a school bus with his classmates and wished for the day to be over.
But time, when you’re young, can move at the pace of a snail. Every inch closer the bus got to the mountains, the more William’s frustration grew. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be home. And he didn’t care at all for the stupid mountains or the stupid rocks they were made up of.
When the bus pulled into the gravel parking lot, the sun was shining bright. The heat was cranked too high.
The kids followed the teacher off the bus and followed him, laughing and pushing each other into the bushes.
William walked behind them all alone. He hoped that by dragging his feet, maybe he wouldn’t have to walk the whole way. Maybe the class would turn around and come back before he even reached the end.
And while William wouldn’t reach the end, it would be for other reasons.
Let’s jump ahead to the interesting part because things do get feet sweatily more interesting.
The Hearts Creek trail is a relatively simple hiking path that criss crosses over a creek several times before it ends up at a waterfall at the end. The water is no deeper than a foot at any point along the path, even at the waterfall.
And while the kids had been there before, judging the water’s depth year over year is not something children have been known to do.
So as William sat down on one of the many benches along the trail to take a break, he stared into the creek, which was considerably higher than normal.
He watched as the water rippled past him, and for the first time that day, he felt a sense of relaxation.
William closed his eyes and listened to the sound the creek made, with his classmates all far ahead of him, and the seclusion of the forest around him, he felt like it was just him in the world.
He almost understood what his dad was talking about when he said he loved coming to the mountains.
Almost.
It should be noted here that water because of gravity moves downhill, mostly because of gravity, definitely not because of anything buried deep underground.
Stolen novel; please report.
This is the part of the story where an Aurora Wasteland team should get involved. Only this time, there isn’t one.
There are many different kinds of Aurora Wasteland posts, and this one, well, what happened next happened fast and has never happened again.
William was on his own, and no help was coming. But something else was.
What you read in the paper about traumatic events is usually only a fraction of what actually happened.
News articles have only so many more to convey what the world needs to know.
Plus, with so many different eye witness reports, and the fallacy of human memory, events aren’t always perceived how they actually happened.
The story that William told the world, the one you’re reading now, differs greatly from that of his classmates.
As you may or may not know, the human brain is tricky as fuck to understand. Large portions of it remain a mystery to us mere humans. But what we do understand about memory in particular is that often when you are recalling an event from your past, your brain is accessing the last time you thought of it, not the actual event you’re trying to recall. It’s like taking a copy of a copy. Certain aspects of the event can quickly become distorted and wrong.
This is important to remember because William isn’t wrong. Unlike everyone else, he transcribed what happened onto paper before the eminent media bombardment. And while he changed his story to soothe the frazzled nerves of his parents and other grownups. In private, he'd be more than willing to share what he originally wrote down.
What follows is a direct transcription of William’s telling of the events.
My name is William
Someone said I should write this down before I forget it. So I am.
I was on a bench staring at the water.
Then I heard a sound.
At first, I thought it was my class coming back from the waterfall.
But it wasn’t.
The sounds got louder as I sat there.
Louder and louder.
It sounded like trucks were driving right next to me.
There were no trucks.
Only water.
I looked up to see water blocking out the sun.
It was whipping over my head, like a river in the sky.
It reminded me of all those white water rafting movies.
It didn’t feel real. Water should be on the ground, not in the sky.
At first, I didn’t feel scared. I just stared at it.
But when I saw some kids from my class in the water, then I became scared.
They washed down the river so fast. One by one, I watched from below as they went by.
It was like looking at the underside of a water slide.
But no laughter and happiness. They made no sounds at all.
I think I saw the teacher go by too.
I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat there and watched.
That was a bad idea.
Because all at once, the water fell from the sky.
I covered my head, but it still hurt when the water smashed into me.
Then I couldn’t breathe.
I was underwater.
I couldn’t see my class or my teacher.
I couldn’t see anything, just rocks, and dirt.
The bench was gone.
I thought I was going to die, and was worried about my Mom and Dad.
But I saw something. Steps.
And a railing.
I grabbed the railing as I went past it.
My eyes hurt, and the water was dark. But it looked like the steps went down to something. Almost like a train stop.
I held onto the railing as tight as I could.
The water was so cold.
I stared down into the darkness of wherever the stairs went.
And I swear I could hear a voice. But I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Then it felt like someone was staring at me.
I was more afraid of that than the water. So I let go.
And seconds later, my teacher was pulling me out of the water.
That’s where William’s transcript ends.
Needless to say, his story was of interest to Aurora Wasteland researchers.
The area was searched, but nothing like William described was there.
The destructive power of water is vastly underrated.
William was examined by health care professionals and was demeaned healthy, but the traumatic event has left him with a slightly depleted lung capacity. Also, he hates swimming of any kind now.
None of the kids, emergency responders, or Aurora Wasteland researchers were able to back up William’s story.
Everyone believed that while the class was at the waterfall, a flash flood washed them down the creek.
And for a long time, that was the story.
Until years later, while at a bar, an avid Aurora Wasteland fan ran into William’s teacher and started probing him with questions and ordering him drinks.
A half dozen whiskeys later, the teacher let something slip that he’d never told anyone before. He said that as he pulled William from the water, a street sign floated by.
At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. But years later, while on a trip, he recognized the style and shape of the sign. It was a subway sign from New York.
He didn’t remember what had been written on it, only that now after it was all over, he thought it was strange.
And now, after years of thinking about it, he said that it might be possible that part of what William had experienced had actually happened.