Paralysis. Broken bones. Death.
"I think you should say your goodbyes."
Beca looked at her father from the gurney and smiled, flippantly saying see you later.
"Maybe you should take a bit more time, it could be your last chance."
The doctor's words made her head spin, her eyes involuntarily swelling with tears, as she was pulled through the doors to the operation room.
Beca woke up; panting heavily, sweat dripping from her face.
It'd been 7 years and the nightmares were still haunting her, of that terrible accident that her mind wouldn't let her forget.
The sound of waves softly crashing against the shore calmed her down, as they did most mornings, the repetitive and constant rhythm of the ocean giving her reassurance that she was, in fact, still alive. She pulled herself out of bed and looked out at the Australian sunset. Slipping on her t-shirt, Beca made her way down to the water, enjoying the silence and solitude her home gave her. She was lucky to have survived such an accident. With a grand total of fourteen broken bones, including her spine, the doctor's predicted she would never walk again. But luck wasn't something that Beca believed in anymore. She believed in living. She believed in living life to the fullest, which is exactly what she swore to do after the accident.
The waves tickled her feet, causing her to gasp as the cold sensation made its way up her legs. She turned back to look at the home she'd built with her own two hands. It wasn't perfect, she'd admit that, but it wasn't half bad. Sure, it'd taken her a while but it was worth it - to know she'd made something that was hers. Beca walked back up the sand dunes to her home, tossing her clothes onto her bed and stepping into the outdoor shower. She felt a twinge in her left leg, a reminder of. She stifled a curse, reaching down and tracing the scar with her fingers as the water cascaded down her naked form, reminding herself of how far she'd come.
The brunette heaved as she dragged a piece of driftwood from the beach to burn in her water heater. This was the only way she could produce heat, having no access to the mainstream gas or electricity lines. She'd learnt to be self-sufficient, starting off with solar panels, eventually investing in a desalinization system to turn saltwater into drinking water after finding no fresh water sources on the island. It was getting dark, and she was getting ready to turn in for the night.
"Hey!"
Beca dropped the piece of wood, stumbling over in shock and losing her balance into the sand. Bewildered, she jumped up, wondering who would be disturbing her this late in the evening.
"I heard you're looking for some cheap labor?"
She squinted, making out a small female figure approaching her in the distance. Striking red hair was visible in the moonlight. Help? Beca scrunched her face, confused.
"Some guy on the mainland said you needed help building a guesthouse?"
Ah. Beca had told a skipper she was looking for some extra hands to help her construct the guest accommodation she'd been thinking of building to help generate some income, perhaps advertising short stays for tourists who were curious about the island. She didn't except anyone to come - she couldn't offer a generous wage - but she could provide a bed and a warm meal.
The mysterious figure was becoming clearer now. Her curly red hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, little wisps of hair escaping the confines of the hair tie. She struggled to keep her balance walking across the uneven sand in the darkness, her huge backpack pulling her off balance. Beca's breath caught in the throat as the figure stepped into the ray of moonlight, illuminating her features. She didn't often see other people, only on her weekly jaunt into the mainland to collect groceries and other essentials. She began to panic. How do you talk to a woman? What if I say something dumb? She stopped herself. Get it together, Mitchell. The brunette walked down to the woman, introduced herself and walked with her up to the house.
"The locals on the mainland all say you're dark and mysterious. You're a lot shorter than I was expecting. I'm Chloe, by the way."
Beca tensed up. She wasn't used to people gossiping about her. She managed to let out a chuckle, explaining to Chloe that maybe she was dark and mysterious, but that's how she liked it. The other woman cocked her brow curiously and smirked, taking a seat on the sofa as Beca grabbed two beer cans from the solar-powered fridge.
"What's a woman like you doing out on this island all by yourself? Fancy yourself as a bit of a Bear Grylls?"
The brunette rolled her eyes, brushing off the sarcasm in Chloe's voice. Most people thought she was crazy, which Beca understood. A girl in her early thirties living in complete isolation on a small, uninhabited island off the main coast of Austrailia? It was hard for other's to comprehend. Beca shrugged, choosing to reply with a vague who knows. She left it at that, not liking strangers prying into her life. The less people knew the better. Chloe seemed unsatisfied with the answer but didn't push any further. The brunette stood up and showed Chloe her room, bidding her guest a goodnight.
That night, Beca slept soundly for the first time in 17 years. The nightmares were replaced by images of the redheaded woman who had wandered onto her island, and into her life, just hours before. How long this woman would stay? Beca didn't know, but for now she didn't care as she drifted off into a sea of red hair and blue eyes.