DIA.
inspired by ‘Yellow Butterfly’ - Meg & Dia.
--&&--
Most people hate the rain. To them, it’s an unavoidable pest, brought on by nature’s cycle of drawing up water from the oceans and spitting it out onto the unsuspecting people below. But Dia loved it. Even though it made her skin cold and her body ache from the chill, she still loved it, because it changed things. It made flowers bloom the very day after said flowers’ heads were drooping, petals filled to the brim with dirty water. It washed away the tears of people who walked in the rain wondering if God himself could tell the difference between their sadness and the sky’s own lament.
Even though it changed everything, rain itself never changed. It came in different forms; but each was a type of rain. Storms, monsoons, light summer showers ... Dia loved every single aspect of rain, except perhapsthe fact that it put off the picnics her family adored. Every Sunday morning, Dia and her parents would go down to the river, and have a picnic. Sometimes Dia’s older sister, Cassie, would come along too - her straight, perfect blonde hair bouncing around her waist, and her eyes; a bright sea green to match the river water. Whenever Cassie came, their parents would have to pack an extra sandwich (or three), but they never seemed to mind. Where the family drew up all this money from, Dia had no idea. Her mother, Claire, worked as a florist, and that never brought in much income. Her father, Ian, was a dentist. Dia figured that putting people through insane mouth pain was a good way to make money.
What she knew for sure was that they always had a fantastic time. Cassie would tell jokes, while their father would laugh nervously at any he found inappropriate, and Dia would sit there, looking out at the river, sitting in her mother’s warm lap. This particular Sunday morning, Claire’s hand was clenched in her lap, with the other stroking at her own brow anxiously.
"I get awfully frightened, Dia. You really need to use an umbrella whenever you walk home from school. You know how much it rains in October."
"Spring rains, Mama." Dia responded, keeping her eyes on her mother's hand. She wasn't about to ask for her mother to pull her into her lap - she was a big girl now, she didn't need to ask. Big girls never asked for things; Cassie never asked to go out shopping with Amy and Alex, but she always did, and their parents never minded. "Spring is warm."
"But rain isn't."
Cassie wasn't there that day. She was with their father, getting a haircut. Dia could see it now - the expression on Cassie's face when the hairdresser cut a single strand not quite the 'right way'. Cassie was always so picky.
"Have a cup of juice, sweetie. It's good for you."
Dia took the bright cup that was offered to her, staring at the swirling liquid inside. It looked like vomit.
"Ew. I don't want this."
“It’s good for you. You don’t like going out in the sun, honey, but you need vitamins.”
“I hate juice!” Dia snapped - her thin hair whipping against the nape of her neck as the wind picked up. Claire’s brow furrowed, and she frowned with a kind of regret. Dia often threw light tantrums over what she did and didn’t want - tantrums that could be easily alleviated by the simple touch of Claire’s hands. A mother’s touch was meant to be the most comforting thing in the world, but with Dia’s case she preferred the touch of rain. And since there were no dark clouds to be seen on that bright day, Claire rested her hand against her daughter’s calf. Dia looked up at her with a blank expression, biting her lip.
“We got a present for you, you know.” Claire pulled out a cylindrical black object with a black cover over it. Dia’s spindly eyelashes curled with curiosity, but her jade eyes dimmed when she noticed that it was one of those cheap pull-out umbrellas you find in small newsagents. “It’ll stop your cardigan from Nonna getting wet, and then you’ll stay dry in the rain.”
Dia took the umbrella with a reluctant look on her face, feeling the stiff material on her hands. She liked the feeling of rain trickling down the fine hairs on her arms, not crunchy, creased fabric.
“But I don’t want it.” Dia shot out stubbornly.
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The warm atmosphere of the lounge room was hardly comforting that night. Dia was sitting in her favourite recliner, and had been ever since she got home. The soft cushioning of it felt hard against her bottom after all these hours. Cassie had passed by her a few times - either on the phone, or combing her hair whilst grumbling (she obviously wasn’t satisfied with the result of her $80 hair session), but was yet to give Dia so much as a ‘Hey’.
Dia wrapped her arms around her calves and pulled her knees up to her chin. The TV wasn’t quite at blaring volume, but it was loud enough to discourage her from calling out to her mother for a snack, despite the growing hunger in her stomach. She never liked listening to the television; there was always some kind of bad thing happening on the news like some kind of tragedy or protest. All the kids’ channels were way too childish for her taste, but sometimes Dia liked to pretend that nothing bad ever happened in the world, and that people lived forever without ever getting sick or hurt by other people.
A light pinch on the arm reminded her of the unlikelihood of the latter, and Dia turned to see Cassie crouching beside the recliner with a grin on her face.
“Heya, Di. Like the hair?” Cassie flicked at the tips of her hair. “Amy convinced me that it looks acceptable. You like Amy, right?”
“She’s nice,” Dia muttered. Cassie’s hair fell around her shoulders and across her collarbone - misshapen, but long and smooth, as always. The dark blue shade of a tight tank top peeked out from behind the blonde strands on her shoulders - probably that irritating Superman one she always wore. It wasn’t like Cassie didn’t have enough clothes, but she insisted on wearing the same silly tank every single day.
“My friends are good like that.” Cassie paused, staring at the television for a few seconds. “Y’know, Mum and Dad are all weird tonight. You didn’t snap at Mum, didja? I mean seriously, you’re… well, rude to her sometimes.”
“No, but she gave me a present I didn’t want.”
“… The umbrella?” Cassie pried at the space between Dia’s upper arm and her knees. “C’mon, Di. Don’t be all grumpy over that.”
“I can be grumpy over whatever I want to!” Dia barked, her eyes flashing. She stood up as quickly as she could, almost barrelling over the crouching Cassie as she raced towards her bedroom.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dia spent the whole night locked in her room, refusing to come out even when Claire offered her a free trip to the swimming pool. The banging of her father’s fists against the door was as good as mute as Dia held her hand out her window, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the tin roof. She loved throwing tantrums almost as much as she loved water, because tantrums got her attention. Cassie always got attention as she was a lot brighter and… typical. Cassie was typical. Dia wasn’t - Dia liked to think deeper thoughts that an eleven year old like her should.
Her eyelids began to droop, and she felt her jaw crack as a yawn escaped from her. Maybe she could go down in the morning before school and pretended that night never happened.
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“Di.”
Cassie was sat on the end of Dia’s bed, her hair neat as ever, but her eyes frantic. Dia cracked one eye open and strained her eyes to look at her. Dia herself was still lying across the windowsill with her hand extended.
“Y’know, all the angst stuff is meant to start when you’re like, fifteen.”
Feeling the chilly wind pick up, Dia closed the shutters on her window. She could still feel the sunrise dancing along the horizon, but the sky remained a dark, powdery blue.
“Anyway. I figure I could take you to the river...?”
Dia blinked. She and Cassie had never been at the river alone before - only with their parents. Contrary to what Dia always thought, Cassie never took her down there because she wasn’t allowed. Claire and Ian were very overprotective of Dia, and didn’t trust her alone with Cassie for a second, let alone an entire Sunday morning.
But then again, it wasn’t Sunday, was it?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cassie ran her hands through the thick blades of grass - a few blades catching between her tan fingers. The wind picked up the strands of her hair, ruffling it from its neat ‘do. Dia eyed her enviously, looking at her perfect hair, along with her creamy skin - Dia’s own hair was constantly wavy and a sick, peanut-butter colour. Her skin was fairly similar, what with genetics and all, but it didn’t quite have that glow to it.
“So… you brought the umbrella, huh?” Cassie’s eyes glittered mischievously, and Dia wondered why she sounded so cruel when she teased. It was purely poking fun, but Cassie’s voice had a tendency to take on that tone she used around Kristie; a mean girl from her school who dropped by once. A sour tone, with a light tease at the end; like she was just trying to irritate you.
“I want to throw it in the river. I want it to break apart and go away.”
Cassie frowned. “That cost money, y’know. It’d be a waste.”
“Can I recycle it?”
A sigh escaped the older blonde’s lips, and she leaned forward to take the umbrella out of her sister’s hands.
“Umbrellas are replaceable, Di. You aren’t. If you got Hypothermia, Mum’d never get over it.”
“What’s Hypothermia?”
Hesitance flickered through Cassie’s eyes for a moment, as though she was trying to pick apart a knot in her head.
“It’s when you get all cold inside.” She replied, eyes clear.
“Is it like dying?”
“I wouldn’t know... So, just use it, okay?” Cassie shoved the umbrella back towards Dia again. “You’ll hurt Mum’s feelings.”
“Okay.” Dia wrapped the loop of string attached to the umbrella around her wrist and crossed her arms stubbornly.
The sun was yet to rise; still licking at the mountains in the distance. A strange calmness took over the river, to the point where it was almost completely still. Dia was almost afraid to dip her finger in there to distort her reflection, in case reality itself broke into a million tiny ripples. Instead, she pulled a few dandelions out of the ground, running her fingers around the soft inside.
“Ugh, I hate those.” Cassie snorted, combing her hair with her fingers. “They’re like weeds.”
“They’re pretty.” Dia murmured. She stuck a piece of dandelion stem in between the wicker of the picnic basket handle, winding the stubborn plant into the equally stubborn cane.
Eventually the entire handle was decorated with small buds and full dandelions, and Cassie looked at it with a disgusted look on her face.
“If I get a rash from carrying that, I swear I’ll…”
The river had started moving again, running off into the distance towards the burnt orange sky. Dia leaned back on her hands and played footsie with herself, squeaking whenever she caught herself.
Cassie gazed out at the other side of the shore before becoming bored then standing up. She tucked her hands into her jean pockets, throwing a wink Dia’s way.
“I need to go toilet. Stay here, yeah?”
“Okay.”
As Cassie walked off, Dia wondered where she would go if she could. She’d probably build a bridge over the river and hide under it, pretending to be the troll from her favourite story. She could never remember the name of it, but she knew it was about three (or was it four?) goats who wanted to cross a bridge to get to the greener grass on the other side. Silly goats - Dia could see very clearly that the shore opposite from her wasn’t grassy at all. It was dirty from the river being at too high a tide for the earth to handle, and a few pieces of the bank would float along on the water, as they broke away.
To Dia, the ‘greener grass’ was the river itself. The pretty rainbow patterns that were dancing off of the clear water, as the sun began to peep its head up… the way it nibbled at the grassy shore..
“Ohmigod! Hi!”
Dia turned, blinking. Cassie’s backside was wiggling unnecessarily, in sync with her frantic hands. She was standing in front of a boy: Alex, from Cassie’s school.
‘Where did Cassie get so many friends from?’ Dia wondered.
Cassie glanced back at her sister, pointing and saying something to Alex, who waved from behind Cassie. Dia waved back before turning again to watch the river.
She pulled at another dandelion; one closer to the shore. It was drooping slightly, as though it had been trodden on by an elephant, but was far brighter than all the others. Dia smiled and leaned on all fours to reach it. As she pulled at it, she fell forward slightly, dropping the ‘weed’ into the water. Her head spun for a moment. The dandelion floated off out of arm’s reach before stopping, rotating on the spot as though it was teasing her.
“C’mere, meanie.” Dia muttered. She got to her feet with a grumble.
‘A slightly moody day..’
Dia reached for the dandelion, her fingertips making light patterns in the water, as they traced towards it. Her feet were at the edge of the grass bank, and the water was licking at her leather shoes, teasing her. Laughter could be heard in the distance. Dia turned; frightened that Cassie was walking off without her. A glance let her know that her sister was still beside the picnic mat, just turned away from her, and towards Alex. The water seemed to be seeping into more of Dia’s shoes than she had thought, and as she turned back to reach the dandelion she pulled her feet back.
‘She couldn't stay away from the river's edge.’
The grass bank collapsed under her feet; her hand dipping into the water at arm length before her face hit it immediately after - the dirty water stinging at her eyes and nostrils. Dia gasped, feeling the sting flood over her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. A cry for her sister disappeared in her throat, and she turned in an attempt to see where the surface was. The sunrise wasn’t quite there yet, and the only glitter of light she could see was the fine lines between each of her eyelashes as she tried to keep her eyes open.
‘I turned my back..
.. And heard the water wake up.’
The river had never seemed this deep to Dia. Dirt that swirled around her feet hinted that she had collapsed the ledge, making the river just deep enough to ensnare a young girl. Cassie was yet to notice the small trail of bubbles erupting to the surface of the river, instead keeping her eyes on Alex’s fringe, playing with it teasingly.
‘And I.
I can still hear that scream.
It's still lingering in the air, everywhere, “Mother please, save me.”
Grab my hand!
“I can't, I can't.”
I can still see that face, sink beneath the waves.’
--
done for homework - BE NICE? ;^;
inspired by ‘Yellow Butterfly’ - Meg & Dia.
--&&--
Most people hate the rain. To them, it’s an unavoidable pest, brought on by nature’s cycle of drawing up water from the oceans and spitting it out onto the unsuspecting people below. But Dia loved it. Even though it made her skin cold and her body ache from the chill, she still loved it, because it changed things. It made flowers bloom the very day after said flowers’ heads were drooping, petals filled to the brim with dirty water. It washed away the tears of people who walked in the rain wondering if God himself could tell the difference between their sadness and the sky’s own lament.
Even though it changed everything, rain itself never changed. It came in different forms; but each was a type of rain. Storms, monsoons, light summer showers ... Dia loved every single aspect of rain, except perhapsthe fact that it put off the picnics her family adored. Every Sunday morning, Dia and her parents would go down to the river, and have a picnic. Sometimes Dia’s older sister, Cassie, would come along too - her straight, perfect blonde hair bouncing around her waist, and her eyes; a bright sea green to match the river water. Whenever Cassie came, their parents would have to pack an extra sandwich (or three), but they never seemed to mind. Where the family drew up all this money from, Dia had no idea. Her mother, Claire, worked as a florist, and that never brought in much income. Her father, Ian, was a dentist. Dia figured that putting people through insane mouth pain was a good way to make money.
What she knew for sure was that they always had a fantastic time. Cassie would tell jokes, while their father would laugh nervously at any he found inappropriate, and Dia would sit there, looking out at the river, sitting in her mother’s warm lap. This particular Sunday morning, Claire’s hand was clenched in her lap, with the other stroking at her own brow anxiously.
"I get awfully frightened, Dia. You really need to use an umbrella whenever you walk home from school. You know how much it rains in October."
"Spring rains, Mama." Dia responded, keeping her eyes on her mother's hand. She wasn't about to ask for her mother to pull her into her lap - she was a big girl now, she didn't need to ask. Big girls never asked for things; Cassie never asked to go out shopping with Amy and Alex, but she always did, and their parents never minded. "Spring is warm."
"But rain isn't."
Cassie wasn't there that day. She was with their father, getting a haircut. Dia could see it now - the expression on Cassie's face when the hairdresser cut a single strand not quite the 'right way'. Cassie was always so picky.
"Have a cup of juice, sweetie. It's good for you."
Dia took the bright cup that was offered to her, staring at the swirling liquid inside. It looked like vomit.
"Ew. I don't want this."
“It’s good for you. You don’t like going out in the sun, honey, but you need vitamins.”
“I hate juice!” Dia snapped - her thin hair whipping against the nape of her neck as the wind picked up. Claire’s brow furrowed, and she frowned with a kind of regret. Dia often threw light tantrums over what she did and didn’t want - tantrums that could be easily alleviated by the simple touch of Claire’s hands. A mother’s touch was meant to be the most comforting thing in the world, but with Dia’s case she preferred the touch of rain. And since there were no dark clouds to be seen on that bright day, Claire rested her hand against her daughter’s calf. Dia looked up at her with a blank expression, biting her lip.
“We got a present for you, you know.” Claire pulled out a cylindrical black object with a black cover over it. Dia’s spindly eyelashes curled with curiosity, but her jade eyes dimmed when she noticed that it was one of those cheap pull-out umbrellas you find in small newsagents. “It’ll stop your cardigan from Nonna getting wet, and then you’ll stay dry in the rain.”
Dia took the umbrella with a reluctant look on her face, feeling the stiff material on her hands. She liked the feeling of rain trickling down the fine hairs on her arms, not crunchy, creased fabric.
“But I don’t want it.” Dia shot out stubbornly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The warm atmosphere of the lounge room was hardly comforting that night. Dia was sitting in her favourite recliner, and had been ever since she got home. The soft cushioning of it felt hard against her bottom after all these hours. Cassie had passed by her a few times - either on the phone, or combing her hair whilst grumbling (she obviously wasn’t satisfied with the result of her $80 hair session), but was yet to give Dia so much as a ‘Hey’.
Dia wrapped her arms around her calves and pulled her knees up to her chin. The TV wasn’t quite at blaring volume, but it was loud enough to discourage her from calling out to her mother for a snack, despite the growing hunger in her stomach. She never liked listening to the television; there was always some kind of bad thing happening on the news like some kind of tragedy or protest. All the kids’ channels were way too childish for her taste, but sometimes Dia liked to pretend that nothing bad ever happened in the world, and that people lived forever without ever getting sick or hurt by other people.
A light pinch on the arm reminded her of the unlikelihood of the latter, and Dia turned to see Cassie crouching beside the recliner with a grin on her face.
“Heya, Di. Like the hair?” Cassie flicked at the tips of her hair. “Amy convinced me that it looks acceptable. You like Amy, right?”
“She’s nice,” Dia muttered. Cassie’s hair fell around her shoulders and across her collarbone - misshapen, but long and smooth, as always. The dark blue shade of a tight tank top peeked out from behind the blonde strands on her shoulders - probably that irritating Superman one she always wore. It wasn’t like Cassie didn’t have enough clothes, but she insisted on wearing the same silly tank every single day.
“My friends are good like that.” Cassie paused, staring at the television for a few seconds. “Y’know, Mum and Dad are all weird tonight. You didn’t snap at Mum, didja? I mean seriously, you’re… well, rude to her sometimes.”
“No, but she gave me a present I didn’t want.”
“… The umbrella?” Cassie pried at the space between Dia’s upper arm and her knees. “C’mon, Di. Don’t be all grumpy over that.”
“I can be grumpy over whatever I want to!” Dia barked, her eyes flashing. She stood up as quickly as she could, almost barrelling over the crouching Cassie as she raced towards her bedroom.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dia spent the whole night locked in her room, refusing to come out even when Claire offered her a free trip to the swimming pool. The banging of her father’s fists against the door was as good as mute as Dia held her hand out her window, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the tin roof. She loved throwing tantrums almost as much as she loved water, because tantrums got her attention. Cassie always got attention as she was a lot brighter and… typical. Cassie was typical. Dia wasn’t - Dia liked to think deeper thoughts that an eleven year old like her should.
Her eyelids began to droop, and she felt her jaw crack as a yawn escaped from her. Maybe she could go down in the morning before school and pretended that night never happened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Di.”
Cassie was sat on the end of Dia’s bed, her hair neat as ever, but her eyes frantic. Dia cracked one eye open and strained her eyes to look at her. Dia herself was still lying across the windowsill with her hand extended.
“Y’know, all the angst stuff is meant to start when you’re like, fifteen.”
Feeling the chilly wind pick up, Dia closed the shutters on her window. She could still feel the sunrise dancing along the horizon, but the sky remained a dark, powdery blue.
“Anyway. I figure I could take you to the river...?”
Dia blinked. She and Cassie had never been at the river alone before - only with their parents. Contrary to what Dia always thought, Cassie never took her down there because she wasn’t allowed. Claire and Ian were very overprotective of Dia, and didn’t trust her alone with Cassie for a second, let alone an entire Sunday morning.
But then again, it wasn’t Sunday, was it?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cassie ran her hands through the thick blades of grass - a few blades catching between her tan fingers. The wind picked up the strands of her hair, ruffling it from its neat ‘do. Dia eyed her enviously, looking at her perfect hair, along with her creamy skin - Dia’s own hair was constantly wavy and a sick, peanut-butter colour. Her skin was fairly similar, what with genetics and all, but it didn’t quite have that glow to it.
“So… you brought the umbrella, huh?” Cassie’s eyes glittered mischievously, and Dia wondered why she sounded so cruel when she teased. It was purely poking fun, but Cassie’s voice had a tendency to take on that tone she used around Kristie; a mean girl from her school who dropped by once. A sour tone, with a light tease at the end; like she was just trying to irritate you.
“I want to throw it in the river. I want it to break apart and go away.”
Cassie frowned. “That cost money, y’know. It’d be a waste.”
“Can I recycle it?”
A sigh escaped the older blonde’s lips, and she leaned forward to take the umbrella out of her sister’s hands.
“Umbrellas are replaceable, Di. You aren’t. If you got Hypothermia, Mum’d never get over it.”
“What’s Hypothermia?”
Hesitance flickered through Cassie’s eyes for a moment, as though she was trying to pick apart a knot in her head.
“It’s when you get all cold inside.” She replied, eyes clear.
“Is it like dying?”
“I wouldn’t know... So, just use it, okay?” Cassie shoved the umbrella back towards Dia again. “You’ll hurt Mum’s feelings.”
“Okay.” Dia wrapped the loop of string attached to the umbrella around her wrist and crossed her arms stubbornly.
The sun was yet to rise; still licking at the mountains in the distance. A strange calmness took over the river, to the point where it was almost completely still. Dia was almost afraid to dip her finger in there to distort her reflection, in case reality itself broke into a million tiny ripples. Instead, she pulled a few dandelions out of the ground, running her fingers around the soft inside.
“Ugh, I hate those.” Cassie snorted, combing her hair with her fingers. “They’re like weeds.”
“They’re pretty.” Dia murmured. She stuck a piece of dandelion stem in between the wicker of the picnic basket handle, winding the stubborn plant into the equally stubborn cane.
Eventually the entire handle was decorated with small buds and full dandelions, and Cassie looked at it with a disgusted look on her face.
“If I get a rash from carrying that, I swear I’ll…”
The river had started moving again, running off into the distance towards the burnt orange sky. Dia leaned back on her hands and played footsie with herself, squeaking whenever she caught herself.
Cassie gazed out at the other side of the shore before becoming bored then standing up. She tucked her hands into her jean pockets, throwing a wink Dia’s way.
“I need to go toilet. Stay here, yeah?”
“Okay.”
As Cassie walked off, Dia wondered where she would go if she could. She’d probably build a bridge over the river and hide under it, pretending to be the troll from her favourite story. She could never remember the name of it, but she knew it was about three (or was it four?) goats who wanted to cross a bridge to get to the greener grass on the other side. Silly goats - Dia could see very clearly that the shore opposite from her wasn’t grassy at all. It was dirty from the river being at too high a tide for the earth to handle, and a few pieces of the bank would float along on the water, as they broke away.
To Dia, the ‘greener grass’ was the river itself. The pretty rainbow patterns that were dancing off of the clear water, as the sun began to peep its head up… the way it nibbled at the grassy shore..
“Ohmigod! Hi!”
Dia turned, blinking. Cassie’s backside was wiggling unnecessarily, in sync with her frantic hands. She was standing in front of a boy: Alex, from Cassie’s school.
‘Where did Cassie get so many friends from?’ Dia wondered.
Cassie glanced back at her sister, pointing and saying something to Alex, who waved from behind Cassie. Dia waved back before turning again to watch the river.
She pulled at another dandelion; one closer to the shore. It was drooping slightly, as though it had been trodden on by an elephant, but was far brighter than all the others. Dia smiled and leaned on all fours to reach it. As she pulled at it, she fell forward slightly, dropping the ‘weed’ into the water. Her head spun for a moment. The dandelion floated off out of arm’s reach before stopping, rotating on the spot as though it was teasing her.
“C’mere, meanie.” Dia muttered. She got to her feet with a grumble.
‘A slightly moody day..’
Dia reached for the dandelion, her fingertips making light patterns in the water, as they traced towards it. Her feet were at the edge of the grass bank, and the water was licking at her leather shoes, teasing her. Laughter could be heard in the distance. Dia turned; frightened that Cassie was walking off without her. A glance let her know that her sister was still beside the picnic mat, just turned away from her, and towards Alex. The water seemed to be seeping into more of Dia’s shoes than she had thought, and as she turned back to reach the dandelion she pulled her feet back.
‘She couldn't stay away from the river's edge.’
The grass bank collapsed under her feet; her hand dipping into the water at arm length before her face hit it immediately after - the dirty water stinging at her eyes and nostrils. Dia gasped, feeling the sting flood over her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. A cry for her sister disappeared in her throat, and she turned in an attempt to see where the surface was. The sunrise wasn’t quite there yet, and the only glitter of light she could see was the fine lines between each of her eyelashes as she tried to keep her eyes open.
‘I turned my back..
.. And heard the water wake up.’
The river had never seemed this deep to Dia. Dirt that swirled around her feet hinted that she had collapsed the ledge, making the river just deep enough to ensnare a young girl. Cassie was yet to notice the small trail of bubbles erupting to the surface of the river, instead keeping her eyes on Alex’s fringe, playing with it teasingly.
‘And I.
I can still hear that scream.
It's still lingering in the air, everywhere, “Mother please, save me.”
Grab my hand!
“I can't, I can't.”
I can still see that face, sink beneath the waves.’
--
done for homework - BE NICE? ;^;
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