Note: Right, I know it is a bit slow so far, but it will pick up. Now we are only in the introduction, really. Thank you to those who are reading.
Zara slept through the day. She had attempted to rise that morning, but had given up from sheer exhaustion. Now came a pounding on her door. She opened her eyes and was met by a glare of the setting sun through her window. She hurriedly closed the window blinds and curtains. Still the door was pounding.
"I'm coming!" Zara cried irritably, nearly ripping the door from its hinges.
"Oh…" A rosy college girl, vacationing in Santa Carla for the summer, stood outside the door. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?
"No, it's all right…" Zara mumbled.
"In that case, I've come to invite you to go out with a group of friends of mine tonight. You're here for the summer too, aren't you? We saw you wandering around yesterday. By the way, my name's Annie." She took Zara's hand and shook it.
"Anyway," she continued. "You were all alone, so we thought we'd invite you to come with us."
She looked expectantly at Zara, waiting for an answer. When none came, she continued awkwardly.
"It's a shame to vacation by yourself. But this place seems nice. You know, this place is called the murder capital of the world, but I don't believe any of that, do you?"
"No, I suppose not," said Zara beginning to feel keen annoyance. "Listen, can I meet you in a while?"
"Uh…yeah. On the boardwalk, ok?"
"Ok," Zara said, exasperated, and shut the door in Annie's face. She sighed, and started rummaging through her closet for something that wasn't wrinkled.
Black ocean waves crashed upon the bluff . Zara looked down at them, down at the rocky depths below. They were consuming, absorbing.
"I could be standing over them one instant and gone the next," she thought.
"Just gone…" she heard herself whispering aloud.
A roar filled her ears. It rose with the waves, and fell in time with the thumping beating of her heart. It could be so quick. She took a hesitant step forward, and from that moment was locked to the sea, and gravity took hold of her.
"Don't do it, Zara."
The glaze fell from her eyes. Zara gasped. The stranger from the night before held her by the wrist, the single anchor from plunging to the rocks below. She looked down; a wave of panic swept over her, and closed her eyes tightly.
"I'm not here," she told herself. "I'm not dangling fifty-feet from my death. Yes. In fact I'm home."
A peculiar smile formed on her lips. She slowly opened her eyes, and looked into the face of the man she had seen only in her dreams, or nightmares.
"How can I trust you?" she gasped. "I don't even know your name."
"I'm Marko. Now give me your other hand."
Zara hesitated a moment. Then she grabbed his outstretched hand. He pulled her onto the rocky cliff.
"My name is Zara," she whispered.
"I know," he responded.