Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night was unseasonably cold though I remember waking and reaching for blankets, I still lay shivering as though naked and uncovered against the temperature of the air around me. I stirred, reaching for the covers only to find them up around me, cuddling me trying to keep my warmth in. I drifted in and out of sleep, images of violence swimming through my dreams, bringing me almost to screaming terror, and then releasing me into darkness, never knowing how the scene would end. They tell you not to be afraid of the dark as a child, you believe them, it’s not the dark that can hurt you, it’s what lies waiting for you to step out into the light.

I awoke, feeling more tired than the night before, when I had settled into bed, a good book in hand, and a hot cup of cocoa to keep me company. I tried to remember why my body ached as though I’d been running, fighting something, nothing came to mind. I worked my way around my small apartment wincing painfully as I got ready for the day ahead. It was a long day, I wanted to look my best, I had a practice with my coach and a lunch date with an old friend from back home.

I’d been away for so long, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the small town I’d grown up in, the cornfields that stretched as far as the eye could see for miles around, the smell of the river that ran through the county like a snake, muddy, and damp, the smell of a basement that still had a dirt floor. I remembered my grandfather, how he would take to the river with him to fish, and set lines, a smile crept across my lips, a childhood memory long forgotten; now suddenly reappearing. I could almost hear him as he spoke to me about things that made no sense to me at the time. I had thought my grandfather wise, I tried to take in everything he said, wide-eyed and attentive, and though as a child I thought that sometimes he was just telling me stories to keep me happy. I’d always seemed to be his favorite, he seldom took anyone but me with him to do things, though I had a younger brother and an older sister, he always seemed to choose to spend his time with me.

As I came back to myself, back to my tiny apartment, I realized just how much I missed home. Seeing Thomas today was going to be no easy task. I dropped my towel, stepping into the shower, letting the water wash over me as if to wash away the old memories. Not all the memories of home were as comforting as those of my grandfather. I closed my eyes as if melting into the flowing water, over me and around me it rushed, I picked up the bar of soap and started to slowly wash my body off when the overwhelming scent of honeysuckle carried on a spring rain filled my nose, I could see them, taste them, almost reach out to touch them. I opened my eyes, to see where it was coming from, only to feel the burning of soap as it ran into them. I quickly held my face under the water to rinse my eyes out; cursing under my breath, knowing it was going to take more make up than I liked to wear not to look tired and my eyes bloodshot.

I looked at myself snuggled in my plush terry robe, my waist length hair done up in a towel turban. I checked my eyes to see how bad they actually looked, I was mildly surprised to see that they weren’t near as bad as they’d felt in the shower. I proceeded to do my make-up, rich tones of lavenders and purples to match my eyes, which resembled the color of an amethyst. I piled my waist length buttery locks gracefully in a loose bun, leaving only a few curls trailing out as if they had a mind of their own. Adorning my ears in large hoops, showing deep golden as if my ears were kissed in honey against my well tanned skin. Wandering towards my bedroom, pulled my royal purple suit out of the closet, matching it with a lavender silk shell, and six-inch black paten leather pumps. I grabbed my gym bag heading to the door. Glancing towards the full length mirror in my entryway, I looked nothing like the Midwestern girl that came to New York four years ago.

My cell phone began ringing, I started to answer it, seeing the number on the screen, I decided not to, it was James; I had no desire to talk to him right now. He’d wanted to spend the night last night, with everything I had going on today; I just wasn’t up for it. He was probably still pouting; the last thing I could handle right now was having to stroke his ego. He wasn’t happy about the fact I was going to have lunch with Thomas, that I’d taken the rest of the day off after lunch to catch up on old times. Thomas was my high school sweetheart, it had been almost seven years since I’d seen him last, I wanted to spend time with him, to find out what was so urgent that he’d come all this way just to see me. Very few things could have brought him this far, especially considering the way I left, the way I left him. I hadn’t even sent word to him that I was leaving, I just left. I’d felt abandoned by him, and my sister when they left.

As I stepped through the door of my apartment, my eyes took on a more natural brownish color and my hair a more human blonde. It’s something I had done since I was a child, almost second nature not to let the world see me as I truly am. There are many old wives tales that say to set eyes upon one of us, is to instantly fall in love. And love was the last thing I was looking for right now. Thomas loved me for who I was, and he didn‘t expect me to be anything different. I was still in love with him, even after all this time, and that scared me.

Other than my love for the water, I was a pretty normal Midwestern girl. I knew how to set a line, fire a rifle, call a duck, and hunt for mushrooms. All those things that girls and boys learn how to do. Including driving a tractor. I didn’t have to be anything “more” for Thomas to love me, just the girl next door, which had grown up with him chasing frogs, and playing in the mud puddles, and learning to jump our bikes off home made ramps. The first girl who’s hand he held, and lips he kissed. And when the time came, we shared the loss of our innocence together.

We had always thought that we would grow up and grow old in that small town along the river, never in my wildest dreams had I thought that some one would notice my swimming abilities, and want to offer me a scholarship based on them. For me swimming was just a part of me, a part of my genetic code, I had to swim or I would die.

For most people they need air, sunshine, food to survive, for me, I need all those things but I also need water, I need to be near the water so that I can swim daily. As a result I was the best on my high school swim team; I have a trove of medals to show for my swimming abilities, as do many of my kind. We tend to stand out even among the best of the swimmers and divers. Rumor has it there are even a few of us that have gone on to the Olympics and placed very well, though neither of the big names has been women. They know who they are; I shall leave their names unmentioned for theirs is not my story to tell.

I, however, this little farm girl with a love for swimming managed to get myself noticed by several colleges and universities throughout the country for my swimming talents, they were all vying for me to accept their invitation to attend their school on a scholarship. This of course meant leaving everything, and everyone I knew behind. Moving away from my home grotto and cutting all ties with my people. This was not something to be taken lightly; to leave your home grotto was to become an outcast among your own. It was a decision that weighed heavily on my mind at the time.

I am Amethyst, second daughter to the first daughter of the Siren of the Grotto, which roughly put me fourth in line to the throne of the Itasca Grotto. What were my chances of ever reaching the throne? My older sister was much more ambitious than I as for the pursuit of the throne. I just wanted a simple life, doing what I was good at.

The Itasca Grotto was one of only two North American Grottos; the other was much flashier with their magic. We didn’t care to stand out in the crowd, we chose a simple rural lifestyle, where we could keep to ourselves and not many questions would be asked of us.

We populated many small towns from the head waters of the Mississippi river to locking dam number nine just above Prairie Du Chien, Wisconsin. Most were farmers, small town people, hunters, trappers, and fisherman.

Suddenly the elevator door opened, I was in the main lobby of my apartment building. Time to put the memories away, get on with my day, but so much was on my mind with the reappearance of Thomas in my life. I wondered what was going on back home.

I walked across the lobby, to the desk, and asked if I had any mail or messages, which I didn’t. I headed to the door to try to get a taxi to the Jerome S. Coles Sports Center. I had promised my coach that I would spend the morning in the water, but that the afternoon was mine to catch up with Thomas and the goings on back home. He’d agreed as long as I got a few hours in the water that day.

Author's Note

let me know what you think

Reviews

[daftinklings]

It's pretty good. Just a few changes in the way she describes herself would be nice. The way she speaks of herself, seems a bit too descriptive. It smacks of vanity, and I don't think anyone really wants a vain heroine, unless you write her to be that way from the first, but the heroine here is saying that she prefers being from a small town at the same time. kind of contradictory.

[Elizabeth]

It's just the beginning, and i believe that this story is going to be amazingly interesting. So far, I've really fallen in love with that main character. She's reserved and confused and in a major transition. I can only wonder what's in store for her.