Writer's Wednesday!

Writer’s Wednesday! Sea 🌊

Image from TripAdvisor

*Note- This is a continuation of The Elemental Series. Find the rest (categorized by element) in the archives!

Daria woke up in a cold sweat. There was someone watching her. Cautiously tiptoeing over to the window, she skirted around her bedside table, pushing aside the flowing curtains that billowed in the wind. Squinting out, the shore in her front yard glittered with a billion glinting grains of golden sand, lighting up like glowing stars. Dawn was just starting to paint the sky with fire, golds and reds warring with the dull periwinkle horizon. 

A dwindling rain pitter-pattered softly on the sill, the smell of rain clouding the air even as she shoved the window shut and clicked the lock into place. Anxious tension swirled in her chest, and she found herself panting. What is it? There’s no one here, and you never wake up early… 

The rest of the Positano coastline was silhouetted further down, yet to be hit by the rapidly rising rays of sun. All was still in the streets as far as she could tell, and the air was undisturbed by noise. The only sound was the lapping of the tides, ever-constant, always in motion. 

Daria couldn’t find a single reason to be uneasy, but her stomach clenched nonetheless, ripples of nausea like a signal. Her body was telling her to do something, but she couldn’t tell what. Still, she felt like she was being followed, like something was lurking just out of sight. With one decisive motion, she drew the blinds, light disappearing and plunging her room into shadow. Immediately she rushed to the light, diving for it and flipping the switch, labored breaths wracking her chest. 

I’ve never minded the dark before… She had always had dreams where a striking young woman- a little older than her- with a crown atop her flowing black hair and a gown would be standing outside on the shore in the dark, bathed in moonlight. Gazing at the stars. Completely comfortable- relaxed, even as shadows fell on the sand. Standing tall and regal even as clouds passed over the moon and blackness encroached on her pale, moondust skin. Whenever Daria had been in the dark since that first dream, she thought of the girl and calmed down. But today felt… different. Her gut roiled, as though shouting a warning at the top of its lungs that was just soft enough that she couldn’t hear it.

Shuffling to her closet, she picked out a swimsuit, quickly pulling it on with the finesse of an experienced swimmer. She was down the stairs and out the door in moments, pushing back the aimless sense of panic and urgency. 

The sand was wet and mushy beneath her toes, still glittering bright as the jewels on a wealthy woman’s neck. A large sailboat came into the docks in the distance, dropping off a few men before departing again, headed out to sea. She smiled and waved at them, holding back the bile that rose in her throat. Something was wrong with her. Paranoid, up at dawn, afraid of the dark, anxious over a gut instinct? Swimming helps everything. Without any hesitation, Daria threw herself into the water.

 Diving in, everything disappeared. The sights, the sounds, her thoughts. It was just Daria and the sea, as it always had been. No family, no friends, no one. Her and the water. Always. Kicking deeper and deeper as the bottom sloped down, fish swirled in flurries around her, the darting schools seeming slow in comparison. She was a hot knife through butter, a jet in the sky, lightning striking a tree. Fast and effortless, no matter which way the current was going. Just by willing the tide to change, the waves bent and shifted, carrying her along in the current. Even without the help of the waves, each stroke was perfect- never breathing, rocket-fast kick, gliding on the surface or slicing through the depths. Bubbles erupted in streams from her nose, the ache in her stomach starting to dissipate like fog receding over a lake. She grew more and more at ease with each inch she ascended from the midnight blue depths.

When Daria had gone under, all was still and quiet. When she surfaced, all she could hear was a blood curdling scream. Then she got run over. Slam! The air whooshed from her lungs as she was plowed under the surface. Stabbing pain attacked her stomach as slivers of wood thrust themselves deep into her gut. Crimson clouds billowed into the water, blood blossoming and staining the blue. Screams tore her throat, each cry a stab at her mangled flesh. 

It was surreal, like a nightmare. I’ve been run over. By a boat. Her mind blanked as she flailed her arms, striking the water without the usual grace and speed, floundering around like a fish that swallowed a hook. Daria could barely breathe, gasping and inhaling water. Yells came from the boat. She imagined some poor sailors, just departed from the dock and ran over a girl who wasn’t looking. But they weren’t shouting in distress. They were cheering. 

Shock and disbelief flooded her heart. Mind blanking, Daria barely registered it. Right now, she was steering with her heart. In any normal accident when you were hurt in the water, you would try to seek help from them. But her gut (not the literal one, which was shredded) told her to swim away as fast as she could. Waves slammed against the boat as it careened across the water, undulating wildly with the ebb and flow of the tide. 

There was no way to swim fast enough. Blood trailed behind her in crimson clouds, like smoke pouring out of a broken jet engine. She could feel the boat chasing her. Kick. Harder. Daria thought weakly, remembering back to all the swim meets, all the races she had won. Willing the sea to work with her. But consciousness was fading fast, strength flagging. This wasn’t a normal sailor. These people were after her. 

Tapping into all her power, every connection that she had ever felt to the water. How she had felt slicing across the water like a shark, diving in at swim meets, wading happily with her mother before the accident on a sunny day.

The accident. It all came crashing down at once, and the strength bled from her almost as fast as the blood. The memory brought back so much happiness, but so much pain. Her mother’s voice, melodic and beautiful like a siren‘s song. The exact gray of her eyes, light and flecked with blue, the same exact shade as Daria’s. Some summer days her mother had sworn she saw gold speckles in Daria’s eyes when the light of the sun hit just right.

“My little champion,” she had said, pulling her into a tight hug, Daria inhaling and smelling her warm, sugary scent of vanilla and cinnamon. She would never smell that again. The next time she saw her mother was to identify the body, a gaunt, blood spattered version of the mother she had loved. 

Sea salt stung her nose as she inhaled water in gasps. This was how she was going to die. A swimmer, bleeding out and drowning right outside her house. A hand caught hold of her leg and hoisted her up. She slammed her head against the wood, dark spots dancing across her vision. 

She felt like Wile E. Coyote in Looney Tunes, bashed constantly until stars swirled in circles above her head like a crown. The ship sloshed from side to side in the unforgiving waves. Daria knew on some level that she was causing them, but the shock and pain numbed her mind and rendered her utterly helpless as the men threw her on deck and bound her legs. 

“Let me go!” she sobbed, each word like a knife to her gut. A tall, burly man was at the helm, steering back towards the docks. They had intentionally veered away from the docks just to hit her. And she had smiled. Waved. Been friendly! 

A thinner man shoved a gag in her mouth to muffle her cries. The world swayed, darkness encroaching on the edges of her vision. Blood spatters dotted the dock, the crisp red dots becoming increasingly fuzzy with each passing second. She put all her effort into one final heave of the tide, and the boat keeled wildly to the side but refused to throw her overboard. Refused to let her die in peace. Daria was just too weakened by blood loss. There was nothing left to give. 

Two other girls were on deck too, both battered and passed out. One with matted dark brown hair, and a torn white shirt in sharp contrast to her tan, exotic skin. I gasped, not caring about the pain that came with it. The second girl was the one from my dreams. The star queen. She was real. She was here, with me, on this boat, looking regal somehow even crumpled on the deck. 

The kidnapper held up a rag that stank of chemicals. Chloroform… he might not need it in a second, Daria thought, looking down at the growing pool of blood. 

“Welcome, Sea. Or should I say, Daria?” He stuck the rag against her mouth, and she fell to the deck, wavy black hair falling over her eyes. Blood seeped into her swimsuit. In seconds, the world went black.


Writer's Wednesday!

Writer’s Wednesday! Storm 2- In Search of Sea

Positano, Italy. Image from Goway Travel

Rain. Everything was rain. Droplets streamed over my head, beading my hair, my arms, covering everything in a spray of diamond drips. Nothing could be as crystal clear, as perfect as the rain that fell that instant. Every diamond, no matter how expensive, no matter whose neck they are on or where they came from, is clouded and has a hint of murkiness. Not rain. Clear. Cold. Refreshing. Pure. 

As I looked out across the bay, it seemed like a lifetime since the day the storm came. My storm. Like years had passed in the few days between that moment, standing on the balcony and the fateful night where my father had shattered my heart and my mother turned me away. The night that the storm inside had come out, raging in fury and whisking away everything I’d ever known. One day. One.

I guess that’s all it takes to change your life. One moment. One day. One desire. One storm. Since that night with my father, I’d discovered my powers, been whisked off to a desert, seemingly been deemed a goddess by two teenage girls, and went on a quest to seek out the “fourth element.”

Water churned below on the shore, ebbing and flowing in a constant rhythm as it pounded the sand. Crashing and splashing, waves crested out on the burning horizon, frothing white at their peaks like a rabid dog’s foaming maw. The sunrise was glorious as it reflected out onto the midnight blue ocean, fractals of fiery golden sunlight glinting off the water. 

The pitter-pattering drip of rain and pound of the tide crawling up the sand and receding washed over my ears, and my mind drifted off into blankness. For the first time in weeks, my thoughts were still. There was no worries of what the kids would say at school, how drunk Dad would be, or what flaw my mom would criticize. There was nothing but the rain, the cool brush of mist on my arms and the sting of the wind’s kiss on my cheeks. Nothing. Just rain. 

**********************

“Talia? You out there?” A silvery, melodic voice called from inside the hotel room, jolting me out of my meditative state. Flustered, my muscles tensed. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I- I got up early and-” I clenched my hands in frustration. Why couldn’t I talk today? Selene materialized at my side, and I flinched. She somehow managed to scare me everytime, seemingly to glide across the floor silently. With her pale, moondust skin white as death? It wasn’t hard to think you’d seen a ghost. Exasperated, I sighed.

“I’m sorry. What I was trying to say was I got up at dawn to watch the rain.” Selene nodded at this, and her waves of gold-flecked black hair bobbed around her shoulders, somehow falling perfectly back in place. 

“Are you ready to find the fourth goddess? The earth drew us to here, to Positano, Italy. Right on the edge of the sea.” Her eyes sparkled, giving me a knowing glance. I grinned, looking out across the water. The journey from the desert had been tough, but the clues were all in place. Selene was right, it had been as if the whole world was pointing the way. The stars at night had aligned in a path, the wind blew along its course, even the rays of sun seemed to shine their beams towards Italy. 

“You are Starlight, from rural Ohio. Embers, Kenna is from Manchester, Georgia. I’m Storm from London. I’d be willing to bet that this…” I paused, listening to the bells of the Church of Santa Maria Assunta chime in the distance.

“Goddess?” Selene offered. The word still sent pleasant waves of shock down my spine. I was a goddess! I had powers! Rich, daddy issues, only-good-for-her-money Talia. As though I deserved to be a hero, like life was finally rewarding me after years of drunken rage and scars. Fierce like lightning, banding together with goddesses, making… friends? The last time my parents saw me, I was crumpled on the floor, begging for mercy from the demons inside. From them. From the world. From myself. 

I allowed a smile at how much I had grown in such a short time. Sure, I was still meeker than the other two girls by far. It wasn’t like I had changed over night, but my powers had given me a spark of hope in the dark night. A pinprick of light in the black, a small piece of tinder catching fire. Goddess. What a word. 

“This goddess must be sea. Ocean. Water. Whatever.” I tried to imagine what she would be like. Beautiful, regal, queen-like like Selene? Brave, striking, fearless as Kenna? Or traumatized yet hopeful like me? No matter how many times I told myself, I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t like them, a born warrior or leader. I hadn’t thrown myself into battle like Kenna, been deemed worthy to be goddess of the moon and sky like Selene. I was just Talia Thorne, a girl who had let her anger take over. I was nothing, and yet, I had powers. An indescribable connection to the rain, lightning, wind. To the storm. 

THUNK! A bashing thud and a shriek jolted me out of my musings. Thud. Thud. Thud. A single piercing cry. Scuffling noises, a muffled grunt and the sound of a heavy door slamming shut.  Whipping around to seek answers in Selene, I was met with nothingness. Just an empty balcony and her strappy silver heels scattered on the wet floor where she had stood an instant before. No… no. She must have just had to ask Kenna something, or… or what. Dread and fear boiled in my stomach like hot motor oil searing my gut. 

“Selene? Kenna?” My voice echoed in the empty hotel room as I stepped over Selene’s discarded shoes and pushed open the sliding french doors. Thud. Thud. Thud. The bed looked untouched and freshly made, the sheets a pristine white… with one drop of blood blossoming crimson like a rose on the wintry backdrop. No. This can’t be happening. 

“Kenna!” Silence.

“Selene?” Silence. The only noise was the distant echo: thud. Thud. Thud. Like the heartbeat of a monster, the pounding footsteps of a killer. An overwhelming sense of dread rose up in my throat, choking me until I gasped for air. Panic flooded my senses, and a searing pain rushed through my veins, white hot, a million pinpricks jabbing my skin. Each step I took towards the door was a thousand years or a millisecond, the moments crawling along slowly then racing ahead until my vision was a dizzy blur.

As I neared the door, I saw another drop of blood. Another. Another. A trail of bright red blood spattered on the carpet, thicker with each new drop. Threads of Selene’s flowing silver dress dotted the floor, a strand of Kenna’s dark hair. My head throbbed as I looked at the wrecked hotel room. Thunk. Thunk. In the eerie silence, my footsteps rang out like gunshots, seeming deafeningly loud in comparison to the soft pound of waves outside.

Black burn marks dotted the walls, signs of Kenna putting up a fight. I wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t like her to go down quietly. Shards of carved silver punctured the walls, the pieces of Selene’s crowning wreath jutting out at strange angles.
Dread ran hot in my veins, sobs of panic and fear building in my throat, threatening to burst. Kidnapped. In seconds. One moment I was lost in thought, the next they were gone. The blood stains grew larger as I neared the door. Scarlet splotches dotted everything. The walls, the floors, even the ceiling. All of it. 

Just as I was about to open the door, I saw it. A messy message splayed across the walls, spelled out in charred black burns. It said simply, “Find sea.”
The rest was a blur, rushing down the stairs, stumbling over steps. Blond wisps of hair flying around as I sprinted past the confused hotel worker. Rain speckled my loose cotton shirt as I flew down the streets, racing past colorful buildings and neon signs blazing in the dawn. 

My mind churned as I pounded the cement. As much as I wanted to go search for Kenna and Selene, I knew what I had to do. I had to find her. Find Sea. Something evil and twisted was coming, and I had to act fast. As I sprinted down the slick streets of Positano, Italy, I had no clue where I was going. I just knew I had to go. Rain soaked everything as I charged ahead. In search of hope. In search of a goddess. In search of sea.