“No!” I cried out, “No! I will not be doomed to a life like this! This is merely a half life, and I will not continue this
“Nyala, see some sense! This is what the stones foretold when you were born. You must continue with the engagement!” My
father said. His bullheadedness was so annoying! I mean, others could marry for love, my father himself married for love, but I could not!
“Forget the stones! I want to marry for love, not because my father believes whatever the stones tell him! You and your
stupid stones! If they told you to spend a year on land, you would!” I yelled. Before he could say anything else, I left.
I went to my room, locked the door, and moved to my window. I looked out, up to the surface, and I saw the currents going faster, and the wind picking up in the air above the water. The sky went
dark, and the water became swift. That’s when I realized what was happening. A hurricane, caused by my father’s own power. Some would see this as a warning, but I saw differently. This was my
I swam through the window, and up to the surface. I looked to the shore, and saw the people panicking on the beach, running to their homes to warn their families. Then I turned and looked to the
ocean behind me, and saw the reason they were panicking. The storm was huge! The sky was a black wall, huge and foreboding. The wind was howling and blowing my wet, freezing hair around me. I
realized what I huge mistake it was to come up here, realizing that this storm could kill me.
I dove back under the water, trying to get back to the palace under the water, but the currents were too strong. I was being tossed around, left, right, up, down, but then I was caught, suspended
in the water, stuck between to currents. I could not move one way, for there was a wall of rock, and the other way would bring me closer to the storm. Then, the storm grew closer, and I was ripped
from my place and being sucked out of the water. I flew up into the freezing air, flying so high that I was level with the clouds. Then I was spat back down, falling quickly toward the land.
“What belongs to the sea must always return.” A voice said in my mind. That was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
When I awoke, I was lying on the beach. The wind was howling around me, and the sky was black. Trees were being ripped from their places, tearing at the roots with a sickening crack. The water was
crashing on the shore, trying to pull me into its dark depths.
‘Safety’ a voice said, and I began pulling myself farther from the ocean, into a shelter of rocks and sand. I lay down on the sand. The space was just long enough for me to spread out. I felt a
terrible pain in my side, but that would have to wait. ‘Sleep’ the voice said again, so I slept.
When I awoke the second time, I looked up and the sun was shining and the sky was blue. I sat up in my shelter of the rocks, wondering where I was. I had an immense pain in my side and on my head.
I looked down and saw my shimmery green tank top was ripped, and there was a long, red, partially closed cut coming from the bottom of my ribcage to the top of my hip. My hand went up to my head,
and when I touched my temple, it felt tender.
I looked out through the rocks, and saw a man walking on the seaweed-laden beach. He was wearing red swimming trunks and a white with a red logo on it that I couldn’t quite make out. He had
binoculars held up to his eyes and he was surveying the sea, looking for something I did not know. I stood up and started to walk over to him. I fell after about 5 steps, but he saw me, so he
shouted in alarm and ran over.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” He asked, his ice blue eyes filled with concern. Wow, he was breathtaking. He had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes and he was tan. A healthy, non-carrot like tan.
“Yeah,” I breathed, staring into his eyes. Then I saw him looking at my cut, and I knew that I must look like a mess.
“That’s some cut you got there. You must have lost a lot of blood.” He said, still staring and my cut, “Let me fix that up for you.”
He took out a red box with a white cross on it, and sat it on the sand. He opened it up and took out a tube with a green label. He squeezed the tube and a clear paste came out. He put it on his
finger and attempted to run it over my cut, but when he first touched me, I grabbed his hand because it hurt so bad I thought I might pass out.
“Wow that hurt.” I said, looking into his eyes. He looked back at the cut than back at me.
“This is much more serious than I thought.” He said. He picked me up in his arms and started walking up the beach. “This is going to need stitches. I’m going to take you to the hospital.”
“Okay.” I said softly. I was getting dizzy, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or because I was in this breathtaking guy’s arms.
“Oh, I’m being so rude here! My name is Jared. Jared Divum.” He said. Jared Walbank. I will remember that. “What’s your name?”
I picked my brain. It was hard to remember anything! The last thing I remembered was crawling to the rocks after the storm, let alone my name! Then it hit me. “Nyala. I’m Nyala Zeemeid.”
“Nyala. That is a beautiful name. What does it mean?” He asked.
“It’s Indonesian for flame.” I said. He was carrying me into a big white building that was apparently the hospital. They took me into this room with a big bed that moves up and down. I woman that
was about 35 walked in and looked at my cut. She said I needed something called stitches, which is apparently someone sewing my side back together.
“Now, we need to ask a few questions.” The woman said. “What’s your name?” She asked.
“Her name is Nyala Zeemeid.” Jared answered for me. He was so sweet.
“And age?” The woman asked again. Jared looked at me expectantly. I realized I never told him my age!
“I’m 16.” I answered. Jared looked surprised. He looked so cute when he was surprised! His eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squinted.
“I thought for sure that you were older! Turns out you’re the same age as me!” He said. He looked pleased. He was standing beside me, holding my hand. He touched a lock of my hair, spinning it
around his finger.
I hid behind my hair. It was a light shade of blond, and I saw him staring at me through the corner of my eye. His intense sea green eyes were searching for my light blue ones. I turned away from
him looked at the woman expectantly, hoping she would ask another question.
“Who are your parents, Nyala?” She asked. I picked my brain, trying to remember. I saw some flashes of images, images of blue air and bubbles, of a multi colored shell palace. Flashes of people
with fish tails for legs, but it was all like something from a dream. I must be remembering a dream I had while lying in the rocks.
“I don’t know.”
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