Faery Island

Island Girl

Chapter I - Island Girl

"The Lucky One" - Taylor Swift

As a world full of magic, full of wonder, and full of things that no one can explain; Earth is much more than anyone can believe. A world within worlds, layers upon layers. Are the myths really myths or are they just beings from another world living within ours? For years, in different cultures, we’ve been hearing stories about creatures that we believe can't be real. Everything ranging from bed time stories to the kinds that are told around camp fires can be found. But yet, despite what you may believe, they still pop up. And the number of them is extraordinary. So, believing in these stories - this story – it’s up to you to decide whether you wish to think of it as a simple story book, or a real life story. . .

But don't say I didn't warn you.

Dian

"Run!" Rick yelled over the crashing waves. Dian's small legs were burning, and with each step she took she threw up sand in her tracks. She gasped for the salty air, turned back, and adjusted herself to run backwards, hoping she wouldn't trip and fall.

It came like a brown, leathery missile straight for her, and she braced herself for the force. It knocked into her chest and expelled all the air she had. She stumbled, and held the football to herself tightly.

Rick chuckled in the distance and walked down the beach towards her with ease. They were opposites. He was athletic, into sports, and his build was tall and muscular. She was kind of bookish, adored what internet service she could get, and was small, even for a fourteen year old girl, whereas he was a giant compared to normal sixteen year old guys.

"Oh come on, it didn't hurt that much." Rick smiled and chuckled once again, holding his big hand out for the ball.

Dian glared. She wasn't going to give up what win she had. She’d actually caught it this time. Whatever she was going to say, that would prove she wasn't completely helpless, was silenced by her father.

"Rick, be careful with your sister. She's not your practice dummy, don't break her." His voice was deep compared to the both of them. He stood in front of their house that looked like something out of the Swiss Family Robertson movie.

"Dad," she whined. "I'm not that fragile, you know." She smiled at him, but winced just a bit. Her chest was a bit sore.

Her dad laughed, he sounded very much like Rick. He matched her toothy grin. "I know honey, but he doesn't have to know that." He winked and walked in to their home.

They both shared some traits from their father; Rick's laugh, her smile, but their oldest brother, Anthony, was most like their father. He was intelligent and practical. They even looked alike, with the same shaggy brown hair, hazel eyes and naturally pale skin that had been changed under the sun's rays.

Dian looked over at the rolling ocean crashing against the beach.

She missed Anthony; she couldn't wait much longer for him. She knew he was somewhere at the dock by now, probably loading his bags into a boat to come back home. He'd be there the next day, but a few hours seemed too long.

If only she could have gone with him.

Dian was born on the island, unlike Rick and Anthony. She wondered everyday what it would be like there; what new things would there be? But each time she left to visit one of the smaller, closer islands, she was always pushed away. To them, she was the girl from the cursed island, the disappearing island, the bad waters, the mysterious Bermuda Triangle. She wanted to visit America though, where maybe the native residents wouldn't point at her and shout weird things about her home; other than mentioning missing planes.