Author: Silver Ink
Writing: Character background story
Word Count: 795
Sunset. The sky colored itself with dark purples and blues and reds going up in flames above the water, reflected on the soft earth of the beach. It was a summer night, the 28th of August, and so many people were dancing merrily around campfires, laughing and joking around. There were also many people leaving the scene, chattering quietly, exhausted but cheery smiles still brightening their faces.
But on the shoreline, a little figure still played near the water, drawing pictures in the wet sand and watching it confusedly when the tide came in and washed the abstract scribbles out to sea. Said small creature would chase the wave a little ways, her hands outstretched as if she could reclaim her drawing. Each time she would fall lightly and touch the water, wondering why it wouldn’t return her artwork. Gradually, she understood it as a game.
The little stick rushed this way and that on the sand, completing a strange symbol each time before the water swept it away. A bird. A triangle. A string. A droplet. A cloud. A tree. And when she started to shiver a little, a confusing scribble that meant fire. She would draw these confusing little designs and smile with delight every time the water washed it away. The ocean was accepting her gift!
But once, the sea did not wash away the image. The circle in the sand remained, dim in the last splatters of light. The water swooshed up and returned, but this time it left something, a shiny golden trinket, with a queer red jewel on it. She picked it up and turned to the ocean, which retreated in the dark night. With a few funny sounds, she tried to express her thanks to her partner in the game, and then made her way back to the place where a small blanket had been left. She put the necklace next to it and crawled under the blanket before turning back to stare at the water, half sad the game was over.
Time passed. The partygoers eventually left, driving away without notice of the abandoned baby on the beach. Tired from her day, the last occupant of the beach slept for a while.
Rustling nearby awoke her. Light from a lantern startled her, as did the elderly man holding it. He had his hand on the golden necklace, when he noticed the person he was stealing from was awake. Guilt consumed him. He was an honest fisherman, a simpleton. Putting her tiny hand on his, the little girl looked up confusedly at him.
From a pocket, the man pulled a small black sphere and offered it to her. “A black pearl,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for trying to steal from you—could we trade?”
He motioned with his hands and spoke slowly. The girl, although not understanding, took the object offered her and decided she liked it. But it was the old man’s. She held it back out to return it to him. He pushed it towards her again. Understanding that he thought she should keep it, she held it tightly in her tiny left hand and stumbled to express thanks. She had learned from her game with the water that since she had been given something, it was now time to give something back. Thus she picked up the necklace and put it into his hands and smiled warmly.
He too smiled sadly and voiced the thoughts of both. “Trade.” A ruby on a golden chain for a black pearl. Then, seeing nothing else he could do—he couldn’t very easily ask where her folks were--, he rose and left, intending to stop by the local police station to report the strange incident. But of course, he never intended to reclaim the little pearl.
A few hours later, a few officers found her on the beach, cuddled under the blanket, clutching the pearl in her hands, sleeping on the bag. Without waking her, they carried her back to the station.
---
A letter, it turned out, was to be found tucked under the blanket as well. In lucid type it read:
To Whom It May Concern:
She who carries this message has been intentionally abandoned. Her mother has tried unsuccessfully to drown her multiple times and now leaves her to the hands of Destiny.
Musing over the meaning quietly, the police continued to inspect the part of the blanket not being held tightly by the girl.
“Dawn.” Shocked, the officers present looked first to the speaker, the mysterious girl, and then to where her tiny finger was pointing, out the window at the sunrise. “Dawn,” she repeated, looking to make sure everyone was watching. She pointed then to herself. “Et—er--nee-a a-lye-ve”
“Eternally Alive.”
~SilverInk
1 comment:
I love it!!
Honestly :) It's really sweet and simple :D
Please, please do more :D
Post a Comment