Found
Gossamer threads of silky-white fog, slinkily curled around wires of moonlight that barely penetrated the silk blindfold. The black, glass-like ocean was placid and still. Waiting for sailors, before thrashing like a wild stallion and bucking them into a watery grave. A pier stood out, long above the black water. A lone figure stood at the very end. The fog clung to their skin, arousing goosebumps and a pained sigh.
Another wire of moonlight feebly struggled against the misty barrier, just brushing the figure with its silvery light. The figure looked up in longing, clasping their hands in a repeated prayer, not bothering to utter a sound, but putting their heart and soul into that tiny bud of hope. Tanned olive skin, with exotic emerald eyes and long, lush lashes, a mane of oak-brown locks fell to the hip. A feminine body clad in a long grey dress, with a heavy black poncho to protect against the cold's icy breath.
The young woman waited for her companion to return, hands still clasped, face turned upwards towards the moon, in a silent, desperate prayer.
"Elena, come, it's already midnight," uttered a voice, weared with age. Said woman turned her head slightly to the left, just glancing at the tall male behind her.
"Not yet Grandpa, not yet," she replied in a mere whisper. Her hand coming up over her heart, as if swearing an oath.
"He's out there, I know it," her hand slightly clenched her poncho, "I can feel it,"
Elena's Grandfather sighed. It was like this for the past four days. Elena would wait for Him all day, and all night, until she would collapse from sleep deprivation or hunger. She was waiting for her companion, her lover. Shanks.
Her Grandfather put his hands on Elena's thin shoulders.
"Elena…" desperation and concern for her well-being laced in his voice.
She sighed heavily, a singly diamond tear crawling down her cheek, not wanting to accept the fact that Shanks wasn't coming back.
Shrugging off her Grandpa's hand, she turned and walked back towards her home.
"I'm going home," she said simply.
"I'll walk with you," the old man stated.
They both walked in the deafening silence towards Elena's home. As they passed an archway covered in roses, Elena's seaside cottage could be seen.
"Elena…I truly am sorry-"her Grandpa started but was abruptly cut off.
"He's still alive, I know it," She turned around, stubborn determination and a fiery hope evident in her eyes.
"Elena!" her Grandfather protested "He hasn't come back in four days, its impossible for him to still be alive,"
Elena was quiet, a tension choked the room, and it was so thick it could be cut with a knife.
"No! He's still alive!" Elena rebuttled looking out the window, her green eyes an emerald storm.
"Elena. Please-"her Grandfather reasoned.
"He IS alive Grandpapa," she said, the words dripping from her mouth like sweet honey," Believe me, please,"
Her Grandfather looked at her sharply. She faced him again, a sad smile gracing her face.
"He's still out there, alive, because no one has found a drowned corpse,"
They both looked out the clear-glass window seeing the mist cower before the sluggish lightened sky. Both shared similar thoughts.
'Hurry home, Shanks… hurry home…'
This is a first time oneshot, this was originally from my english book at school as a practice for some kind of retarded upcoming assessment. i quite like the plotline even if its a bit mushy, but this is my first time writing on . So i hope you enjoy and i would like to dedicate this to a freind of mine named:
Nadia
yeah this is a i'm-sorry-for-all-the-pranks-i-haven't-yet-done-to-you-as-i'm-a-really-good-person-who-will-turn-into-a-werewolf-and-steal-all-your-naruto-related-belongings-mwahahahahahahaha
hehe,sorry...
~nya --'