The house is full of water, from floor to ceiling.
There's a dark creature trying to capture the two people trapped inside the walls.
There's one way to escape.
One way, and one escapee.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
. 1 . Where the Sky Meets the Sea
The sky met the water like the paint met the canvas. The endless blue stretched out, exploding upwards in variations of pinks, purples, and yellows. Drifting on the lofty winds with brittle wings, a single seagull cried out, its powerful plea echoing across the tops of the waves.
I watched as they curled one by one, their foamy edges creeping up the wet sand in an attempt to snatch my feet. They sank back into the ground, the current pulling them to the ocean before they could touch me. I preferred it that way. A touch meant power, a power that I could not contain.
The fiery sphere of the sun began to appear across the horizon. It rippled magnificently, stretching higher and higher. Its gradual climb meant I had to leave the beach behind and retreat into school. It was an end to my solitude and peace.
I picked up my backpack from the sand and slung it over my shoulder. My shadow stretched longer and longer as I approached the overhang of tall palm trees. They were waving in the stiff breeze that rustled the huge fronds, making a familiar symphony that had been present for my whole life. I walked into the shade and sighed as the cool air hit me. It rolled off my shoulders, which were bare in my off-the-shoulder white shirt.
"Morning, Jenn." The raw voice of my mom reached my ears. She was sitting on the porch of our house, a book in her lap, a cigarette in her fingers, and a mug of coffee beside her. She brushed back her white blonde hair and smiled. "Have a good day, honey."
"You too." I looked at the empty chair beside her and longed to drop in it and forget about school. She stayed here all day writing her bestselling books, making enough money to keep us in a very comfortable life. I wanted an easy life like that.
Our long laneway was designed to keep people from being able to see our house. It was lined with palm trees and at the entrance, a thick iron-wrought gate sat between two brick posts. We had people drive past all the time, hoping to glimpse their favorite author. Sometimes I saw them while I waited for the buss. It was interesting, the way their eyes lit up when they saw the resemblance, only to hold up one of my moms books and see that I was not, in fact, who they were looking for.
The bus was just pulling up when I latched the gate shut behind me. I jogged down the small decline in pavement, bounding up the stairs. The bus driver nodded, already closing the door as I brushed past and headed for the back seat. It was my last year of school and afterwards I would be heading into an unknown future. I had no idea what I actually wanted to do. I had considered writing, but I was no good yet.
I plugged in earbuds and blocked out the world as the bus jerked forwards, yanking me from my little utopia and pulling me into the grim reality of life.
***
I could feel her approaching before she came into view. She had an energy that preceded her, telling everyone that she was coming. When I turned, her fiery red hair was inches away from me.
