Everything changes, at some point in its existence. It doesn’t matter what you try to do to stop it from happening, because it does, all the same. Our efforts are meaningless, in the grand scheme of things. We are but stardust. I stared at the sunset, the colours dancing on the horizon. All pink and orange and red and yellow and purple, blending together in the sky. I sat with my knees hugged up against my chest, the breeze gently shifting my hair. The waves crashed softly onto the beach, like a sort of whisper. Maybe a song, or a story, or a warning, or a cry. I felt the beach underneath me, smelled the ocean air. It was peaceful. It was calm. It was real. I stood up, patting the sand off my shorts and stretching. I don’t like sand. It gets everywhere. I stood there for a moment, on the beach. My hair and clothes gently moving in the breeze, my bare feet burying themselves in the sand. I don’t like sand. I took one last breath, closing my eyes, trying to breathe in the moment, remember it, keep it with me. Then, I opened my eyes, stepped towards the ocean, and jumped. *** It was cold for a moment. It always is. I kept my eyes squeezed shut as I plunged down through the water, down into The Hole. And just like that, just as soon as it had begun, it was over. And there I stood, dripping wet, my hair flat against my back, my clothes now tinted that grey-ish colour that only wet clothes can have, standing directly in front of Samuel. “Allie!” he said, moving to give me a hug before stopping, upon realizing that I was soaked. I was okay with that. I don’t really like being touched. Samuel is a blonde kid, with a sort of wild overgrown mullet-looking haircut. Samuel doesn’t like cutting his hair. He says it makes him cold. He stands at about 5’2”, short for a boy his age. Not that I remember his age. Nor does he remember mine. Samuel wears almost exclusively t-shirts and ragged basket-ball shorts. He doesn’t have any sense of fashion. I took my hair in my hands, wringing it out like a dishrag and giving Samuel a little nod. “Allie, it’s late,” he said, like a parent scolding a reckless child. “No,” I said simply, “it’s not.” Samuel rolled his eyes. “Allie.” he said, dragging out the last vowel in a sort of exasperated, whiny fashion. Allie’s not my real name. My real name is Almaritis. I don’t like my real name. It doesn’t fit me. Samuel sighed, in a cartoonishly exaggerated way, rolling his eyes again. He turned around, gesturing for me to follow him. “Come on, Allie, we gotta get back. And you need to get out of those wet clothes before you get sick!” Samuel tends to act like he’s older than me, even though I don’t think he is. Again, I can’t really remember, but he’s shorter than me, so I feel like that says something. *** I followed behind Samuel, he always insisted on walking in front, our bare feet treading across the all-too-familiar dirt path of the passages within The Hole. After a minute or so of brisk walking, we reached our home. Or, rather, our hole in the wall. It was little more than a moderately sized cave dug out with spoons and other kitchenware. But it was home, nonetheless. We had everything we needed. “After you, m’lady,” Samuel said, opening the door with a bow. I blinked at him, then smiled a bit and gave him a little curtsy before walking through the doorway. Once I was inside, Samuel ran in behind me jumping onto his make-shift bed and shaking out his hair. There was a moment of awkward silence and eye contact before I said, “Samuel, could you…?” I trailed off and made a spinning motion with my hand. “Oh!” he said, spinning around to face the wall away from me. “Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot you-” “It’s fine,” I said, quickly cutting him off. “Sorry!” he whisper-shouted sheepishly. After Samuel turned around, I exchanged my wet clothes for new, dry ones. A coral coloured t-shirt and a mid-length grey skirt. I even put on my shoes, which I rarely did, and some tall socks. I like feeling pretty. I gave Samuel the okay to turn back around, and leaned over the floor to shake out my hair. Some sand fell out onto the ground. I don’t like sand. -END OF CHAPTER ONE- (Heavily inspired by Absinthium Kingdom)
