Mathilda O’Malley Juliette Van Slingelandt
The girl stood looking forlornly at the hollow faces and spines of her friends which lay scattered at her feet, glistening in the sun. Shock and sadness ghosted over her features till they came together in an unsettling harmony on her face. Looking upon her once again, I see her chest rise up and down in an attempt to withhold the tears that seemed almost inevitable. I see the tears beginning to collect at the bottom of her deep blue eyes; that seem to have the sea captured in their irises. The tears saturated with the salt of the sea begin to overflow, creating their first path down her face, making the way for more to follow. The tears create a river but rather than falling to the ground, they rise to me in the aquamarine sky. In her sorrow she seems to be oblivious to her rising tears. Her eyes. Her eyes become frantic as she spins gracefully on her foot so gracefully in fact that – if you had not seen her eyes – you may have thought she was dancing. Deep red hair sticks to her glass face where her tears created their rivers, making her seem as though she were a china doll that had been shattered and then hastily glued back together. Silently sobbing to herself, she grieved and mourned the death of her friends and family. Anxiety rolled off her in waves, I could see the flaming sun emerge from the bleak cloud and the flames licking dry her damp cheeks and face. Craning her neck, eyelids flickering to protect her sapphire eyes from the flames. She sees me. Hope flits across her eyes. Her eyes, her cerulean eyes, fading just as fast as it came. Her lips curve up into a sad smile. But it doesn’t
reach her aquamarine eyes. I have to get to her. So I begin to swim. I glide through the water; my tail moves up and down steadily and with each movement I am thrust further forward bringing myself closer to where she stands. The white stallions move up and down with the curve of the wave. Her smile begins to creep up her face, lifting her cheeks and finally reaching her eyes: the happiness merging with the sadness, creating a whirlpool in her deepening indigo eyes as they change again. Gradually, the cloudy sea brings me closer to her touch. I move my eyes back to her again wanting to give her comfort. Slender fingers uncurl from her fists, knuckles fading from streched white to dusty pink. Extending her fingers to the ocean sky she pulls her body upwards until her feet ascend off the ground and only the tips of her toes are settled on the dusty floor. I can hear the cries of the sea as I near her, the pads of her fingers settle upon the wave. She pulls away, admiring her fingers as the moisture settles on them, running across her fingers and palms. Refocusing on the sea, on me, she reaches her hand up again, and when she touches the wave she doesn’t stop but pushes through, reaching towards me. Her eyes. They are electric, an electric blue. The sea pulls her in, submerging her in the waves.
‘The cloudy sea brings me closer to her touch’
44
I utter a sigh in relief - content. I can feel my heart pump what’s left of the adrenaline in my body round once more, before it disappears. I gently reopen my eyes to welcome the red haired angel home. But I look at her, I look at her eyes and they are grey. Just grey.
