The Solstice Daughters

chapter 2

TRIAL 1

              day one

NOTHING could have prepared Willa Knightly for the position she was currently in.

In the scenario that a seventeen-year-old girl would be stranded on an island with no recollection of her identity, one might manufacture multiple assumptions:

Starvation would overcome her and the native species of the island would indulge in her dead body.She would assert every discovery tip correctly but enforce the unfortunate decision to relish in poisonous berries.She would fall off a very steep cliff.Her lack of human interaction would drive her to immediate insanity.

The clueless girl had considered all those considerably apt scenarios while she contemplated her otherwise 'compromised' mental state. Her previous conversation with the formal spoken fish, 'Jerome' had obviously struck her as unnatural but still, she scrabbled to deduce whether it was the devious tricks of her exhaustion or talking animals truly inhabited this strange land.

On the other hand, Willa's current state precluded her from being concerned about talking animals.

Her feet tucked beneath her tightly, the girl was confined to moist soil and surrounded by handsomely sized trees. Course rope bound her wrists together, causing the skin to grow crimson with irritation. They were twisted behind her back, discarding any method of release.

Once again, damp clothing outlined her figure, sticking to her like a second skin. The weather abstained from changing its previous night's condition, meaning the dampness of Willa's clothing matched her mucky hair. Consequently, the loose droplets from her forehead slid past her eyebrows, stinging her already bloodshot eyes.

Salt graced her tongue as it rolled over her peeling rosebud lips.

Bloody Hell.

The voice in Willa's head repeated the phrase perpetually, while she attempted to blink away the moistness hindering her eyes from focusing on the flabbergasting sight before her. Bloody Flipping Hell.

If she'd thought she was in Satan's layer before, this was a definite indication.

There were endless amounts of situations, objects, organisms, etc. that stirred fear in the teenage girl's heart. Or in other cases, severe agitation. A blatant example that fell on her list was ketchup. The grainy texture of uncommon sweet versus sour incited nausea in her gut.

She was also terrified of butterflies. Their pointed stick legs and vibrant colors did nothing to ease her fear of the brisk animals from mating on her head.

Another memory, Willa thought to herself.

Her heart tightened drastically, perspiration splashing against her temples which were adorned with sticky strands of flattened hair. Bloody hell, this was hell.

She became more aware of the trees swinging in combat around her like a cult of venomous snakes. But not even the overwhelming thwack of the heavy set trunks against each other could tear her forlorn eyes from what resembled her worst nightmare-

seven teenage boys.

Saliva collected in her tangy mouth in trepidation. It was no use in attempting to escape her captivity, the ropes pressing her shaky hands to her back were restrained too unyielding. Not to mention she hadn't had a proper meal in over six hours (which corroborated the sour savor on her tastebuds). Her lack of strength would become of a disadvantage in outrunning her captors.

"Bloody hell." She said.

"For an intelligent-looking girl, your improper vocabulary seems to precedes you."