*** I've decided to post a few of the songs I listened to whilst writing each chapter, I think it's a cool way to better immerse yourself in the story, if you're interested.

Chapter Music:

* I Got You - Duke Dumont

* Hello - Martin Solveig & Dragonette

- Morg


"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

"I don't much care where –"

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go."

― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

September 25th, 2015.

"Waaaaaave!"

Her arms worked quickly, hands diving beneath the tumult, icy swell as her board sluiced its way through the chilly Pacific. Turning her head, Evangeline spotted the source of her mad paddling. Sparkling, sultry blue water crested upwards in a yawning crystalline sloop, frothing white as it bowed precaiously, ready to break and rush forward at any moment. Already caught up in the rush of water, Riley and Everett were laughing as they paddled, muscular arms keeping pace with the movement of the swell. She pulled herself in beside Everett, giving herself a berth of ten feet before the familiar ripple of intuition and a sudden rush of water had her planting a hand on either side of the black surfboard and swinging her knees up under herself. Her feet followed swiftly after, one, two, and then she was flying across deep, undulating dark blue. Long wet hair clung stubbornly to her shoulders and back as Evangeline thundered towards shore, her eyes watering slightly. A salty tear slipped away to join with the sea as she twisted her lean body, angling her board upwards as she went backside, carving her way to the top of the wave's crest before she was aerial. The rush of the sea came back to her as she landed, zigzagging her way gracefully towards the beach. Riley was there to meet her, his board floating behind him as he sat lazily in the shallows. Pushing his mop of dark hair from his eyes, he grinned as she swam up beside him.

"Was that shit not perfect?"

Eva snorted, fist bumping him. "Seriously thought it was gonna be an ankle buster, that thing was huge!"

"Yeah, you almost didn't make it you idiot."

Eva laughed, feeling the familiar tug on her ankle as a soft wave drug her board out behind her, a faint clunk sounding as it knocked against Riley's.

"Uh," She squinted, eyes fighting the setting sun as they scanned the horizon. "Riley, where's Everett?"

"Here." Everett called, stumbling towards them, his board dragging dejectedly behind.

"You fucking barney!"

"Aw shut it Riley."

"What?" Eva asked. "What the hell happened?"

"He fucking fell off his board as soon as he stood up. That's what happened!" Riley cackled.

Everett huffed, rolling his eyes as he readjusted his shorts. "Like you haven't done it a million times." He muttered.

"Dude, did you see Eva's rail grab?" Riley asked, ignoring the snappy remark. "That shit was sick. Eva, you didn't tell us you'd been practicing."

The bracelet on her forearm clinked as she stood, her eyes scanning the beach for their backpacks.

"Yeah well, can't let you two idiots on to my secrets before the competition, can I?" The sun had just hit the horizon line, meaning if she didn't get out of the ocean immediately and get her butt to her jeep, she'd be late.

"Hey where are you going?" Everett called after her, Riley still sniggering at her comment. "We still have, like, twenty minutes before it gets dark!"

"She probably rewatched Jaws without us and is rweally scarwed."

Eva rolled her eyes, throwing a smirk. "Sorry guys, 'rents are planning something special for my birthday tonight!" She called over her shoulder, sloshing her way out of the water until she felt the roughness of dry sand beneath her feet.

"Peace out girl scout!" Riley called, throwing his hand wildly into the air before letting out a girly shriek, lost beneath the waves as Everett launched himself on top of him. Rolling her eyes again, Eva jogged her way across the beach to where she'd parked her white jeep on the edge of the tree-line. Glancing at her watch, Eva groaned. Quarter after six, she had fifteen minutes. Forgoing the shedding of her wetsuit, she loaded her board and hopped in after it, slamming the door behind her. The twisting, car-sickness-inducing road that led from the Lost Coast back up to the secluded, little-known town of Shelter Cove usually had the tourists raving madly about the picturesque scenery and solitude. For Evangeline, or anyone who was perpetually late or got car queasiness for that matter, it was hell packed into a twenty minute race through Bumblefuck, USA. Her car bumped along the dirt road as she skidded around a corner haphazardly, palms beginning to become slick with sweat against the leather steering wheel despite the rest of her body shivering in the cool September air. Of course, she had stubbornly insisted that the top stay off her jeep until October, a request—no, argument— that her father had given in to after nearly a day of bickering back and forth.

"Damnit, I won't even have time for a shower." Eva bit her lip, drying strands of salt-soaked hair flying in clumps behind her as she veered around another turn. The one good thing about living in the middle of nowhere was that there was hardly ever traffic, unless you counted the wildlife that usually had nature lovers and retired couples seeking adventure flocking to the Lost Coast by the dozens. I guess the name is a bit alluringMuch better than if it was called the 'seagull shit coast', or maybe the "monotonously boring coast": home to three hundred people and their thousand animals. Lame. Truth be told, Eva had always thought it a bit lonesome, her hometown. Sure, she had Riley and Everett. Her redwoods, her waves, her footpaths and her silence. But these things lasted only so long, and somewhere between the eight and ninth grade she'd felt the first strings begin to tug at a heart that was beginning to grow wanderlust. Like most of the resident's of Shelter Cove, she was sheltered, pun intended. At least, that was what Eva would moan to her mom after the umpteenth time of complaining her restlessness. She hadn't even gone out of California for college, and while taking art classes at Humboldt State got her out of the town, it did little for her longing.

She'd lived in the small cottage, surrounded by redwoods and the sound of breaking waves, since she'd been born. Miles from any neighbors, Evangeline had always enjoyed the seclusion it presented her with. Well, maybe not always. Now it felt like she was slowly being suffocated beneath the yawning boughs of the great, old trees outside her bedroom window. Tearing up the dirt path that doubled as the family's driveway, Eva swerved into view of the cozy little lodge, trying to ignore the flicker of movement from the kitchen window that was impossible to miss. Throwing the car into park and leaping through the open window without so much as reach for the door handle, Eva tore across the expanse of emerald, wind whipped grass and burst through the back door, causing her spluttering father to spill whatever he'd been sipping out of a mug all down his front.

"Sorry! 'M not late, am I?" Eva shouted, not waiting for a response as she darted upstairs to the attic, her bedroom. Her wetsuit was peeled off with practiced ease, quickly replaced by a dark pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Her messy hair was thrown up into a bun, the drawing Eva had been working on that morning— a lovely rendering of the sun setting through the redwoods— swept off the bed along with several pencils and an eraser in her effort to find her missing socks she'd lost in her sleep the night before. Shoving a worn pair of converse on her feet, she tumbled her way back down the rickety steps, nearly knocking over her mother in the process.

"Whoa there little lady, chill out!"

Eva snorted, at five foot nine, she'd been taller than her mother since she'd hit her freshman year of high school.

"Little mom, really?"

"Yes really. What are you doing nerd? Flying through here you nearly gave your father a heart attack."

Eva winced, her father's frown popping into view over her mother's shoulder. It was him she'd gotten her height from. "Sorry dad."

Jason Septem sighed, a crooked grin slipping across his lips as he dabbed at his shirt with a wet towelette. "It's all good kiddo, just get your butt to the kitchen for you surprise."

Eva's eyes lit up, as green as grass, flickering rapidly between her parents. "Surprise?"
Shooting her husband a dagger-sharp glare, Eva felt her mother take her hand, pulling her along to the kitchen.

"Yes surprise, but that's later. I made your favorite dinner."

"And I picked you up your favorite cake." Her father muttered, bumping her elbow discreetly as he shuffled past to help set the table. Her mother rolled her eyes, playfully swatting at them both, and Eva laughed. Every year that she could remember, her parents had taken her down to the Inn of the Lost Coast for dinner and one of their pretty cakes. This year, they'd caught her off guard by saying they were going to try something a little different. As she scraped her chair at the head of the table out to sit, Evangeline only wondered what that entailed, exactly. Maybe she was getting a puppy?


Apparently, "different" meant something along the lines of "Suprise! You're going to Paris!"

Eva was pretty sure her voice had suffered long-term damage from the amount of screaming and "thank you-ing" she'd done in the span of ten minutes. And her arm was still bruised from her pinching herself repeatedly. She was equally positive her dad had secretly been video-taping the entire episode of her psychotic breakdown.

Great, just freakin' great, more blackmail for the future. Reclining her head into the car seat's cushioned headrest, Eva dropped her sketchpad and her pencil— in sore need of a sharpener for the past hour and a half—into her lap and closed her eyes. They'd arrived two days ago, bumping into the Charles de Gaulle airport with enough gusto to cause her father's glasses to go flying from his face, not that Eva had laughed… The hotel was quaint, a tidily kept Best Western within the Louvre district which was, coincidentally, their top destination.

"Traveling and art," her mother had beamed as they'd hopped into the rental car, "Your two favorite things. You'll run out of sketch paper before we even make it to Versailles."

"Oh you've got to be shitting me, no way." She was still ninety percent sure her heart had suffered several palpitations by that point. This was it. Cardiac arrest by day three.

"Language," her father had grumbled.

"Versailles, seriously though?"

"Yes seriously, our tour's at three."

Secretly, Eva would rather sprint (or drag, more likely) her way up the Eiffel Tower step by rusty metal step, but one glance at her mother's ecstatic smile had her shying away from revealing the truth. Stuffy, overly gilded rooms filled to bursting with old portraits of frowning, wig-wearing French nobility didn't really spark much of an interest in her, but it was Versailles. There was a high chance that she'd never come back, so perhaps seeing it at least once was something she shouldn't pass up so readily. Besides, the famous palace was definitely on Everett's bucket list— he'd told her about it at least four times, twice in extensive detail, while floating in the blue surf after their University classes. Eva smirked. The chance of almighty gloating eroded too greatly against her aversion to the cluster of overly-populated tourist destinations. She'd though Humboldt State was the epitome of a clusterfuck, but so far in Paris she'd witnessed tenfold the amount of people she'd ever seen in her twenty two years. Maybe since it's September it won't be as crowdedI mean, most people are probably more interested in the Eiffel tower and escargot, right?

As her mother would say, it was wishful thinking at its finest.

It turns out that Versailles was more of a popular tourist attraction than Eva had imagined, or as she liked to put it, everyone and their damn mother had shown up to clog the parking lot which sat right smack dab in front of the palace. That got her chuckling.

"Wonder who's genius idea it was to excavate a parking lot right in front of one of the most famous palace's in France?" Eva snickered, frowning when her mother turned to swat her converse-clad feet from beside her head.

"Wonder who's genius idea it was to not hire parking guides, this place is chaos!" Her father grumbled, nearly his entire torso covering the steering wheel as he leaned forward in an attempt to see around a giant tourist bus. Flicking her eyes upwards, Eva sat up, rolling down the window and peering out across the swamp of car fumes to where the high, arching gates at the front of the palace gleamed golden in the afternoon sunlight. The line for taking pictures in front of them was nearly as long as the Eiffel Tower was tall.

"Bingo," her father muttered, wheeling the car into a miraculously vacant spot. Rolling up the window, Eva grabbed her pencil and sketchbook, nearly three quarters of the way full with drawings of her favorite pieces in the Louvre and sketches of everyday Parisian life at a glance. Her favorite was one of a couple standing, arms intertwined, on one of the many lock bridges. It had just been in passing, but in that moment she had seen the man lean down to plant a soft kiss atop the woman's head, and when Eva had looked down her sketchbook had already been open and she drawing the sloping contours of the bridge and their petite frames contrasting upon it. And, y'know, studiously ignoring the pang of longing that exhaled dejectedly in her heart. How melodramatic of me.

"Oh honey, do you want to get a family photo in front of the gate?" Her mother called, her vibrantly red shirt billowing with a fresh breeze. Eva inhaled slowly, trying to commit the sounds and smells to memory. She was so used to feeling a million miles away from life— this city was so different from her little world, halfway around the globe lost in a sea of cliffs and redwoods. She loved it.

"Yeah, but can it not be as corny as that?" She asked, thumbing over her shoulder with a smirk at a group of teenaged girls clustered close together, all crouching to fit in the picture and throwing up peace signs. "Wow, not a single duck face. Someone call the media, this is groundbreaking."

Her mother laughed. "Well honey, I was thinking something a little more…" Glancing around covertly, Mrs. Septem flashed a quick bird at Eva, who threw her head back and cackled.

"Oh, much better. Excellent."

Her mother shrugged. "We can hang it above the fireplace, I figure."

Eva snorted. "Oh for the neighbors to see. Lovely."

"I figured the bears are tired of looking at that ugly painting your father tried to—"

"Guys, if we don't get in line now we'll miss the tour!"

Eva squinted, mentally kicking herself again for declining her mother's suggestion to bring along sunglasses, spotting her father waving madly from the back of the gate's line.

"He does know that's not how you actually get into Versailles, right? The entrance is over there." Eva pointed off to the right, where another, albeit shorter line was serpentined in-between a roped off walkway. Her mother shook her head, sighing before tilting her sunglasses down over her eyes and beaming.

"Golden gate picture first it is then."

Two hours later found Eva standing at the back of her large tour group, ignoring whatever it was the tour guide was saying— though she did give him credit for how impeccable his English was— as she madly sketched out the Hall of Mirrors. Sweat beaded on her forehead, causing small, wispy blond hairs to cling to her temple and the nape of her neck. Even in late September the heat radiated, stagnant with not a single relieving breath of wind. How did those ladies do it in those fruffy dresses? Superpowers, it must be. What she wouldn't give for a wide expanse of ocean water to plunge herself into. Or a bucketful. Seriously regretting opting out of the damn ice bucket challenge thing. Swiping the back of her hand across her brow, Eva groaned loudly when a fat droplet of sweat splattered smack-dab in the center of her sketch. That's it, I need air or I'm going to suffocate. I refuse to die in a hall full of mirrors. I can hear the jokes already, 'bet she saw it coming'… oh fucking hell no.

Slipping up beside her parents, who were so engrossed in the monotonic facts the tour guide— Phillipe was his name, maybe— was spewing that they hardly noticed her tapping both of their arms.

"Yo, 'rental units. I'm gonna go find a bathroom."

"Told you to go before the tour." Her mother singsonged under her breath. "Don't get lost nerd."

"Yeah no promises there." Rolling her eyes, Eva stuffed her sketchbook and pencil into her backpack before beginning to awkwardly shuffle-bump her way out of the overly-packed room. Yep, definitely suffocating. Several painstakingly sweaty minutes later found her feet crunching on the tiny pebbles of pathway that led to the gardens, gulping unhealthily large amounts of fresh air as she struggled to put her long, damp hair up into a bun while balancing her backpack between her shoulder blades. Bypassing the crowded main pools which were located directly behind the palace— an seriously considering doing a cannonball, backpack and all, into the middle of one— Eva slunk her way down into the lower gardens, sticking to the shadows the larger plants and bushes cast like some ridiculously sweaty creature of the night.

"God this is hell," she muttered, darting into the shade of a particularly tall topiary. She'd never had such a problem with the sun before. The redwoods and coast of northern California had seen to that. Also, there was this awesome thing called air conditioning that this place could sorely her imagination conjured up court ladies of the past in their three hundred plus pounds of eighteenth century finery and suffocating dresses. Just the mere thought had Eva convulsing. I'd rather be a slug in a sea of salt. Turning a corner, Eva froze before blanching and throwing up her hands, exasperated.

"How the hell are they gonna put that there and not expect me to go swimming?" She snapped, glaring at the small crystalline pool before her. The area was secluded, a square space of grass surrounded by hedges and roses, with a stone bench immaculately carved with abstract designs perched delicately at the edge of the lapping blue water. Clutching reflexively at her necklace, Eva tentatively peered into the tiny clearing. Vacant— strange, the entire property was swarming with lobstery-sunburnt tourists and their flashy cameras. She took a soft step forward, then another, slugging her backpack off.

"Just gonna… casually…"

Splash.

"Oh, yes." Eva sank to her shoulders in the water, relishing the coolness as it stole away the slimy, sweaty heat that had plagued her body for hours. As long as her hair stayed dry, she figured she could pull off the whole 'soaked clothing' look. Besides, they'd be baking within the hour in this heat. Tipping her head back, Eva peeked open her eye, scouting the area for any sign of human life before sighing and dropping herself back on her arms, submerging herself deep enough that her chin nearly touched the water. Eventually, after the fear that someone would discover her and kick her out under the assumption that she was a hobo bathing in one of Versailles' garden fountain— a really ritzy hobo— Eva lugged herself from the water, lying down on the bench beside it and arranging her clothes so that they weren't tangled beneath her. Closing her eyes again, she lay against the warm stone, letting the sun dry her.

"You can't tell me I was the first person to ever try that shit," She muttered to herself, "though I'm probably gonna get a disease or something from that water… Worth it." Her fingers played absently with the small disc of her necklace. She'd worn it since her mother had given it to her, nearly four years ago on her eighteenth birthday. A family heirloom, passed down from mother to daughter since the dawn of time, apparently. It looked old enough to be true at least, the disc no larger than the standard quarter, it's strange markings worn and eroding— faded beyond recognition. Eva figured it must be either extremely valuable or have incredible history— besides the fact that it had been in the family for centuries— since her mother would often ask her, almost suspiciously, if she was taking care of the necklace. If she'd gotten it dirty. Once, Eva had asked her what she meant by that, it was a bit of an odd question after all.

'Just don't get any blood on it while you're out scuffling around with your friends. Treat it like a baby, you wouldn't get blood on a baby would you?'

'Well I mean besides when it's bornwait mom what the actual hell, what kind of an analogy is that?'

Her mother had actually made her swear not to ever touch it if she was bleeding. And Ev was pretty sure that aside from the nastiness of it, blood wouldn't damage gold. Overprotective much? All moms had their quirks she supposed— like Riley's wouldn't let him past the kitchen whenever he entered his house without him washing his hands. Eva sighed, the sun lulling her into a welcomed doze— five more minutes, she'd leave in five minutes and go back to that droning tour guided mess, probably squished into an overly decorated closet by now.

"Arno."

The voice was older, rougher, masculine in it's tone. And fatherly. Evangeline whirled around, blinking disoriented in the muted lighting streaming in through large, ornate windows. Before her, a tall man dressed in an outfit —complete with a small cape and red sash that made Eva gawk stupidly— beckoned her forward.

Alright, who the fuck is Elmo?

Eva yelped when a small, dark haired body passed seamlessly through her, clutching first her stomach before clapping a hand to her mouth. Neither boy nor man so much as flinched. Boosting himself up on a gorgeously cushioned chair (which looked like it was worth more than her parent's entire house), the small boy— Elmo, Arno, whatever the hell his name is— glanced up at the man, offering him a small smile. Eva floated closer, glancing down at her hands quickly and squinting, half-afraid she would be see-through or worse, smudged and foggy around the edges—- ghostlike.

"Can't I go with you father?"

The older man smiled softly, though Eva hardly noticed. She was too busy turning in a wide, slow circle, brow furrowed. This looked an awful lot like—

"Courage my boy."

Eva whipped around, startled, having already half-forgotten that she was not alone.

"You're fucking telling me— I'm a ghost!"

"You wait just here," the man continued, unfazed by her outburst— or oblivious— kneeling in front of Arno and reaching into his dark coat, fingers searching for a moment before drawing out a gleaming pocket-watch. Clicking it open, he pointed at the ticking hands. "I will return when this hand reaches the top."

Absently, Eva wondered if they would notice if she were to take the watch and hurl it at the window behind them. How much of a phantom was she really?

"That's forever." Arno complained.

"You obviously haven't ever stood in line at Disneyland, kid." Eva muttered, frowning as she stepped forward to peer out the window.

"Not as long as all that. And when I get back, we'll see the fireworks."

Realization hit her like a firework— or several. She jerked back, gasping loudly. These people, they were all dressed like they were impersonating some big eighteenth century production. Was she on the set of a movie? At Versailles? I didn't see any film crews when we went inMaybe it's like Pranked or something.

"And Arno,"

Her foot snagged on the richly patterned carpet, sending Eva teetering backwards. She yelped.

"No exploring, hmm?"

She should have collided with him, the tall man in the strange clothing, but instead she passed right on through. Eva kept falling— the ground coming up hard to meet her.

"Yes father."

She shut her eyes and threw out her hands, bracing for an impact that would surely hurt.

Eva jolted awake, her body jerking gracelessly from the bench, throwing her hands out to try and catch her rough landing onto the pebbled pathway below. She'd been dreaming?

"What the hell kind of dream with that?" I think that water was druggedHer shorts and t-shirt were barely damp— what time was it? Glancing upwards, Eva noticed with growing dread how low the sun seemed to have sunk.

"Shit."

If it was as late as she thought it was, her parents probably had the entire palace security force and several grumpy tourists out searching for her. Stumbling to her feet, she slung her backpack clumsily onto her shoulders, wincing as it banged hard against her back. Eva fingered her necklace nervously, gripping it in her palm as she rushed past the motionless pool towards the clearing's exit.

She stumbled. Gasped, clutching first at her heart, then at her head. The very air itself felt as if it were beating, a spasmodic pulse that had her gasping for breath as her vision blurred. Yepwater was definitely drugged. The sensation came again, and Eva nearly collapsed. A screaming pain ripped through her, lancing from head to heart and back, using her spine as a highway and locking her body up in a convulsion of agony. She'd broken her leg once surfing, shattered four bones in her foot and an elbow to boot after falling out of a tree, and even combined there was no comparison to this— Eva cried out, hands scrambling at her head. Something wet touched her scalp, and she pulled away blindly, stumbling backwards, the stone edge of the pool tripping her up. She fell, and in those brief seconds before her body connected with the darkening water, Eva glimpsed the bloodied skin of her palms, torn from her failed attempt at catching herself. There was a flash of gold. The necklace. The necklace was covered in blood. Oh shit, mom'll be

She hit the water with what felt like the force of a freight train. It felt like cement, far harder and far more unforgiving than any wave had ever been. Which was saying something. Head snapping back, Eva heard the crackling snap as it connected with the glassy surface of the pool, spots dancing in front of her dimming vision as she felt another pulse beat its way through her.

I think I'm

Eva blacked out.


- Hi guys! This was long in the making (like seriously, I was writing this in my college classes...), so I do really hope you like it so far. I'm on Chapter 7 writing wise, since I'm always super busy I try and write them in advance. New chapters posted weekly.