Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SIRINTRA stared out at the rolling waves, crashing endlessly on the shore, so white, so pure. The white horses were gathering out at sea, foam created by the endless pattern of the blue, azure blue, waves against the rocky cropping.
Jumping up from her spot in a sheltered enclave just off the shore, where the waves were coming in, faster and faster, in and out, washing over the sand then retreating, Sirintra sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her. A wiff of fear presented itself to her, as her heart palpitated in her chest, thumping with every step she took towards the rocky outcrop.
Scrambling on the rocks, sprayed with seawater, many times she got up, only to fall back against the unmerciful sea, threatening to wash her off to sea. Many scratches she got on those hard, unforgiving stones, but never did she give up, trying harder each time to reach shore.
The clouds were rolling in faster, and the sea turned grey upon the backdrop of the clouds, as though the entire world was mourning. By now, all Sirintra could see, was that it was as if the entire world consisted of the sky and the waves.
The monsoon was coming in, bringing with it the scent of danger. In the middle of the rocks, she had no time to wonder, to have the leisure to look around her. She could smell danger, and panic rose up in her. It was going to engulf her. Trying frantically to calm her mind and her racing heart, Sirintra wiped off the sweat on her palms, looking around for a foothold, an armhold, anything.
After another torrent of water which washed over her, and Sirintra's head barely broke above the surface of the water, gasping for breath and choking, spitting out the water that entered her lungs. The water was deceivingly calm, but slowly Sirintra could feel the vortex of the water, swirling around her ankles, sucking her to the bottom, to the never ending pit of doom.
As she lifted her head one more time, looking at the rocky outcropping, so close yet so far, she prayed in her heart that she would be able to see sunlight, one last time. Apparently, her prayer was answered, for immediately she caught sight of her saving grace - a small handhold to put her hand in. Muttering a prayer of thanks, Sirintra grabbed hold of it with tremendous effort, barely managing to cling on. She knew that if another wave came she would not last, and that would be the end of her.
However, perhaps a miracle was waiting to happen, for the waves retreated and sunk back to the sea, now calm again, like a tranquil pool of water just sitting there. Sirintra looked down, but immediately squeezed her eyes shut. There was about a ten foot drop to the dry baked sand, soft and glistening white as the sun appeared in the sky again. She could not risk it.
Sirintra set about scouring the cliff again, but came back empty. Already her palm was becoming sweaty, her fingers ached and blistered. She was suspended in mid-air, with no foothold, only hanging on by a thin thread, her fingers gripping the rock with a vice-like grip, betting against all hope that she would not fall.
She was doomed to fall - Sirintra knew that. She knew that she would fall any moment then. Looking up, she squinted against the glare of the sun. There was about a few feet above to the rock up there, to safety. It was just lying there, as if tempting her, telling her that she could never get there.
Already the sun was in full blast, lying in the sky like a great big orb of light, illuminating the sky in hues of yellow, shining like the great star it was. But it scorched Sirintra's body, making her feel like melting in the glare of the sky. Her fingers slipped, inching towards the edge of the rock, waiting for her to plummet down. Desperate, she grabbed the nearest rock she could find with her left hand, but it came loose and now she dangled on one hand, her whole weight gambling on the strength of one hand.
Then her fingers gave one last effort to stay, but now she was swinging dangerously, perching precariously on that ledge. Finally, after their last stand, her fingers gave in and she was falling, falling down to her death on that innocent sandy bed.
The essence of summer wove itself around her, strangling her with it's grip, scorching her back, blistering her hands, reminding her, again and again, of its presence. Sirintra felt the ground sped up towards her, as panic gripped her, forcing all the breath out of her lungs, going closer to the ground...
Just as Sirintra was about to hit the ground, her world spinning out of control, she suddenly felt suspended above the ground, opening her eyes, Sirintra could only gape at the world around her. It was a queer feeling, as if floating on a bed of invisible clouds. The sand was just in front of her face, just there, but it seemed like time had stopped, and her body with it. Sirintra tried moving, but suddenly a watery, croaking voice cried out, "Stop it!"
Sirintra froze, not daring to make another single move, closing her eyes. Was she delivered out from the frying pan into the fire? Every hair on the nape of her neck stood up as the creature, whatever it was, slithered over. The world was cold, icy to the touch, as all happiness and reminiscing of bright summer days died out. Then something breathed into Sirintra's mouth and she shivered, before her eyes rolled to the back of her head, showing only the whites, and she lost consciousness.
Sirintra was falling into a deep abyss of sleep, and hazy figures jointed themselves in her dazed vision. The world was white, so white, like the purest snow on a chilly christmas day. Nothing made sense, but Sirintra could still feel the cold, the chill, and hardly made out small creatures scurrying around.
Is this a dream? The Sirintra inside her head whispered deliriously to her.
