So close was the water that the girl moved to the subtle crashing of the waves. She went down the stairs, bringing her foot forward as a wave crested and putting it down when a wave hit the sand. It continued across the wood floor of the living room, then the kitchen, but she stopped when she looked out the big window towards the dock.
Through the marsh grasses, he frantically searched for her, waiting for the moment to happen again. He didn't understand how time worked. It just kept going, it didn't happen again, ever, but he was desperate to find her again because he knew that if he found her now, she would be safe. He exited the grass and ended up on the shore. He collapsed to his knees on the sand and hung his head low. Tears fell from his face to the ground.
He looked up again to the open ocean, and then his head turned to his left. His lifeless eyes caught a glimpse of the dock, and at the end of it, a girl sat. Her legs hung just above the water, only touching it when the waves came high enough. He was suspicious at first. Was it really her? But then who else would enjoy sitting at the end of a dock even when a storm was approaching.
He stood and started walking towards her, then he sped up his gait to a shuffle, then he ran with whatever strength he had left in his body. He climbed onto the dock and scrambled to his feet once more, and when he was just feet from her, slowing down, ready to embrace her, he spoke.
"Briana!" he yelled.
"Botolf?" Briana questioned.
The little bit of color in his face drained. He stopped mid step and turned to look behind him. At the top of the dock, closer to the house, there stood Briana, alive and well. Her blue eyes weren't as blue. Her hair didn't fall as wavy as it used to. She was Briana, but she was such a plain version to Botolf.
Briana too was shocked at what she saw. The gentlemanly Botolf had been reduced to almost nothing. His shirt was just a scrap of fabric that sat on his shoulders. His pants were shred from the knee down. His hair was unkempt, his skin was browned, and his feet were bare and bleeding. He looked more like an old style pirate than the most respected messenger of his generation.
Botolf turned back to the girl at the end of the dock, and at the same time, she turned to him, and her face what not Briana's. As a matter of fact, it had no face; the entire body had changed to a worm-like being with bristles on its back, and it wrapped itself around Botolf and pulled him into the water.
That's when it hit Briana. This was who she had seen, the name made sense, it all made sense! She was gone, but not forgotten. She cried to him.
"Botolf!"
