27 Days: The First Five Chapters

Chapter Four

August 5th, 2013

After the unfortunate scene with the drunk, I decided it would be for the best if I find myself someone sober. I curse myself for being picky in my sacrifices. Looking at it from another point of view, there are these little things I must reason with. Age is one thing. An immortal who still manages to look like a seventeen-year-old, searching for a twelve-year-old, or a thirty-year-old, is not really attractive in any way. Above all, it would just be less fun. Imagining the little celebration would be overflowed with other drunks, I quickly came the conclusion there wouldn’t be much to catch there.

The rock I’m sitting on is getting pretty annoying because of its rough surface, leaving the same prints on my bum as I get back home. Looking further into the distance, I see the entrance. The small hidden pool between the rocks and the sea that overflows them. I'm craving to go back, yet again I can't. I don't want to think about home now. On another note: here I am, watching the stars and the little stroke of the moon again. It’s like I never do anything else these days, while I should be hunting for another son of Gaea. I shake my head. Oh for Hell’s sake, I just need to stop whining and start taking some action. The sooner I get a guy, the sooner this will all be over. Looking to my right, I smile at the sight of the Castle of Scilla. The lights shine brightly, and from the sight of it, there aren't many tourists tonight. That's when the idea strikes me. It has been a while since I've paid it a visit, and who knows? Perhaps I'll finally find my last sacrifice.

I straighten my dress and press my hands onto the rough surface of the rocks to get a better grip. In one smooth motion I stand up and dive back into the sea. Colour me surprised, but that doesn't happen very often. My sudden excitement motivates me into swimming even faster than usual and before I know it, I climb out of the water again by lifting myself up onto another pair of rocks. Sure, I could take the decent way by just walking out of the water towards the beach, but that would only waste too much time. Above all, I don't want to risk is getting questioned where my parents are or what I'm doing here all alone. I can see the conversation already heading like this:

“Young lady, what are you doing here all alone?”

“I just came by to pay a visit at one of my favourite places.”

“Where are your parents?”

“I’m an adult.”

“What’s your birth date?”

 “No idea actually. Somewhere before B.C.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“I have an ancient sea monster as a mother. Surely you know her. Charybdis? You know, the one who lives in the same street opposite to Scylla. Swallows huge amounts of water three times a day. Can’t miss her. Well, no one actually sees her because of a magical glamour. But now you know there is one, I’m pretty sure you can.”

Afterwards I’d be put into a household taking care of me, or an asylum, or both. It mustn’t be that hard to understand my point of view on everything. It’s simple logic, yet something most of my sacrifices didn’t get.

I get up from the rocks and swing my body across the railing, but after a second I lose my grip and hit the hard asphalt. I clench my teeth to bite back the pain. I should try to get up again before I get noticed, but my legs won’t let me. There is no way in the wold that I’m getting wounded before sacrificing my last. I bite my lip and take a deep breath before I search for the railing or something to hold on to. When I do, I see a dark figure approaching. You have got to be kidding me.

 “Nothing to see here”, I shout to whomever he is. I take another big breath, bite my lips again and push myself upright. I tilt my head in the direction where the stranger was standing. Keeping track of time isn’t my strong point these days. Suddenly the figure is crouched before me with a concerned look in his eyes, as if to ask if I'm okay. When he looks at the blood on both my elbows, he knows I'm not. I could put on a show and play a little girl who's in a terrible need for help, but I won't. I hate it. It gives me the worst feeling in the entire world to let someone know I need help. On the other hand, I just want to get out of here. I sigh. I hate myself for this, but I'll make an exception. Just this once.