MY FATHER HAS A VERY BIG SNAKE LIVING IN OUR SWIMMING POOL
I grew up knowing my father as a kind, but also a very strange man. We live in a big mansion, the kind you only see on TV. We don’t lack anything—actually, we have more than we even need. But the story behind this house never made sense to me.
My dad used to work as a gardener for a very wealthy family. We never met them. One day he came home to our small place in Alexandra and said, “Pack your things. Tomorrow we are moving. My boss went back to America and left me everything.” Just like that.
We moved with nothing, not even toothbrushes, and when we arrived at the house, everything was already there—clothes, furniture, food, everything. Almost like the family disappeared into thin air.
Since we arrived, there has been one strict rule: We are not allowed to go near the pool area. If you want to see my dad angry, that’s the only way—step near that pool. From upstairs we can see the pool clearly. During the day it’s dirty, green and muddy, like no one cleans it. But at night it becomes crystal clear, shining like something is waking up inside it.
We can’t swim at home or anywhere else. My dad says his ancestors don’t want us near water or else he will die. That thing alone has always been suspicious. But it gets worse.
Every year, without fail, someone in the family dies. A cousin, an uncle, a distant relative… and it’s always the same story—they drown. Sometimes in a pool, sometimes in a river, sometimes in a dam. Never in our pool. And every time it happens, my dad becomes strangely helpful, donating huge amounts of money, organising the funeral like he is the head of everything.
During the week of each death, the pool becomes… different. The water turns red, like blood. I never understood how or why. Until one night.
Around 2AM I was thirsty, so I went downstairs to get milk. When I came back, I looked outside the window while sipping from the bottle. The pool lights were on. And that’s when I saw it—a very big snake, swimming slowly in the pool. It was so clear I couldn’t even tell myself I imagined it.
My heart nearly stopped. I wanted to run to my parents’ room. But when I opened the door, I found my dad kneeling on the floor, wearing a red sangoma doek and beads all over his body. Black candles were burning around him. He was facing the wall, whispering something.
I froze. Then I ran back to my room and locked the door.
I never confronted him. He never mentioned anything to me. But the strangest thing is… since that night, he has never spoken to me. At all. Not even a greeting. It’s been more than a year.
Sometimes I ask myself:
Could my suspicions be right?
Is my father feeding something in that pool?
Was that snake the reason behind all the drownings?
I don’t know. But deep inside, I feel like I already know the answer.
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