The best feeling in the world is the sand between your toes. That is what my mother taught me. We used to walk down to the beach every day and just do whatever. Here was the land of no rules, the world of play pretend. I can never bring myself to remember why it stopped, why everything bad started. It just did.
The cool ocean breeze blows through my hair and for the first time in a while I breathe easily, like this is where I really belong, the ocean. It is strange that in a district where everything revolves around the ocean it took me so long to realize it.
I step closer and closer to the ocean until I am but inches away, my feet embedded in the dark wet sand. When a wave finally rushes over my feet, I watch them turn blurry as they are hit with the rush of warm liquid. I close my eyes and let my skin take in the rays peeping out in the beautiful sunset shown in the sky. For a minute, I pause and listen to the soothing bursts of sound that come with each wave that crashes on shore, but then continue to walk along the beach as rocks and seaweed poke at my feet and tangle with my toes. With every crash comes the retraction of the water to show any rocks and washed up things before once again covering it with another rush of water.
I am staring openly around the beach when, suddenly, I see her.
I know it's her.
I walk towards her and pause before placing myself in the sand two feet away.
"Do you come here a lot?" I ask, as I settle my eye back on the endless horizon.
She slowly turns her head towards me, her hair flowing like ripples across her shoulder. Her sea green eyes sparkle almost like reflections of the ocean. She pauses, making sure to search me thoroughly from head to toe with her observant gaze. She silently turns back towards the sunset and waits yet another minute to give her response.
"I guess," she says, closing her eyes and letting in the last bit of sun into her soul before it disappears behind the water. "Why do you want to know?" Her eyes are less gentle this time, worried.
"No reason. Just wondering," I say, taking a deep breath and trying to settle my stomach that has been spinning in circles since sitting down. "I haven't been here in a while, that's all."
She places her arms behind her body, standing them up against the sand, and stretches her legs out straight in front of her. She takes a deep breath herself and almost seems to smile slightly at the deepening sky.
"Funny, it seems like I'm only ever here," she says, not moving here eyes from the place they look. She stays like that for a minute before letting herself truly smile. It's not big, but the energy she gives off is unexplainable. It's like she is the sun herself, emitting rays after the real one has receded. Her entire ora and position is infectious. It make me want more, to learn more about her.
"I wish. It's been hard to escape the house these days. I feel trapped half the time, this time literally. I had to sneak out the window. I can see why you come here after everything that happened," I say, but quickly regret it.
Why am I saying all of this, all my family secrets to some stranger? Somehow I just couldn't help it.
She quickly sits up and turns to me, her eyes open wide. "How did you know? Y-you can't tell anybody," she begs, seeming to be in a panic.
"About what? About your mother? Listen, if she needs help, you need to tell—" She puts her hand over my mouth and pushes me to the ground, climbing on top on me to keep her hold. The soft ends of her flowing long dark brown hair drape down onto my face like curtains.
"You can't tell anybody. You understand?" she asks, and I can tell she's scared. She reminds me of a stray cat I found towards the Main Square last year. It was a thin with black fur and hazel green eyes. It was so slim I could feel its bones with a simple pet of the hand to its side. Someone had just left it there to die, to wander the streets in hunger. I brought it home and took care of it for a while, watching it pounce from surface to surface of my room, licking up salmon and figs like I'd never seen before. But one day after coming home, it was gone, finding its lifeless body in a sealed cardboard box next to my window the next time I snuck out, a message from my father, sobbing until stars came out.
I lay there and look into her wide sea-green eyes, trying to imagine what could be so bad that she didn't want anyone finding out about her mother. This was not her just being embarrassed, but genuinely afraid.
I nod my head as best I can with her hand placed so tight against my face.
"Good," she says, rolling back onto the sand, releasing me. She settles back into her arms, but the scared look does not come off her face.
"Why do you care anyways?" I ask, still laying flat on the beach, looking at the deepening sky, it's moving pigments like magic against the sea. "I'm just wondering. You don't have to answer that."
There are a good few minutes of us just sitting there as the water pulls in and out from our toes, in complete silence, but she does answer me.
"Because they'll take me away," she says, barely getting her sentence out before getting too choked up to speak. Tears start to drip down her face and leave wet spots in the already damp sand. Her breaths get deeper and deeper as she tries to steady herself, but every once in a while she sniffles and I hear a sob escape her lips.
I look at her, the scared thin and desperate little cat, and remember what it is like to feel lost and frightened, see it within myself.
"If they find out that my mother isn't taking care of me they'll take me away." She sniffles. "And she's the only family I have left." Her sobs get more and more difficult to hide as the tears turn from drips to steady rain. I sit up beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. Her head leans on it and I feel the beat of her whimpering heart.
We stay just like that for a while. I don't know how long exactly, but, by the time she wipes her eyes and sits up, there are already and uncountable number of stars in the sky.
"Are you okay?" I ask, stretching out my arm that seems to have fallen asleep.
"Do you wanna go for a swim?" she asks, suddenly.
"Um, I guess—"
"Great! Come on!" she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up off the ground, running straight into the water as fast as she can. Her cheeks are still red from crying, but her eyes are as beautiful as ever. Her hair blows in the night breeze as she runs through the salty waters, splashing like crazy along the way. After we get in waist deep, she let's go of my hand. Everything looks dark and I can barely see her standing a foot away, looking up at the stars.
"Don't you just love the water at this time of night," she says trying to do a twirl, but falling in. She stays under for a minute and I rush towards her, worried, but she comes up.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.
She holds up her hand and I take it, but instead of me helping her up she pulls me under. After she lets go I come up, gasping for air. She laughs and it's so infectious that soon I begin to follow and hers gets even louder. Soon we are laughing so hard that it almost seems impossible for either one of us to stop.
Her hair is covering her face covering her face, but she quickly clears it away with her hands before wiping her eyes. Her large tan sweater now appears a muddy brown, releasing water like a towel your trying to wring out after a shower. The beat-up leather chain on her neck now looks smooth rather than old and cracked, like it was before. She rings her limp arms hold my shoulders as she tries to regain the support of her flimsy body.
"What did you say your name was?" she asked, her eyelashes dropping when wet, holding my gaze.
"Finnick Odair," I smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Well, Finnick Odair, I hate to cut this morning short, but I should probably get back to my mother and hide the liquor before she wakes up. We don't have enough money for her to go through the rest today."
"Yeah, my father will be pissed if he finds I'm gone," I agree. And so we both swim to the shore, underwater, letting its wetness envelop both of us in itself, in this perfect night of calm before the terror that comes at noon.
"Good luck tomorrow," she says, looking down at the sand.
"You too. What name should I look out for?" I ask, subtly just wanting to know, on the off-chance that I never get to hear it again, never get to see her or laugh like this.
"Annie," she smiles, "Annie Cresta."
A/N: As I write, I usually write one scene at a time and sometimes post a scene before the entire chapter is done so if you feel that your missing something in the story just check. It should be there. I usually try to post at least one scene at a time because that way I can keep all of my fan fictions on track as well. Feel free to check them out. Thanks for understanding. You're all the best. -amazinglilli