vibrant

epilogue

Ophelia Nelson-Bowman had done nothing but cry for nearly twenty four hours straight. She can't eat, she can't sleep, she can't do anything.

Her best friend is dead, and it's her fault.

How can she not blame herself? She had told him to keep going when he was sailing into a tropical depression.

Her parents hadn't said much to her, and she doesn't have the heart to talk to the Pogues just yet. She needs to be alone for now.

The only one she had seen was Jj, because he snuck in and slept with her. She's happy to have him next to her, because she's afraid of what would happen if he went home. Ophelia didn't sleep, though. She couldn't stop crying.

So, Ophelia sits on her bed, a sleeping Jj beside her, and moonlight streaming in through the balcony as she flips through her sketchbook. She looks at the drawings she had been doing the weeks leading up to the hunt.

Then, she stops on a particular one.

A shipwreck.

Ophelia remembers it vividly. She had drawn it on the HMS Pogue the very first day, the day they found the Motel key. Ophelia rips it out of the book, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room, unable to stand looking at it.

Then, the memory hits her like a train. The thing that happened the day after: The dive.

Ophelia steps forward, helping John B secure the oxygen tank to his back, "Hey, I've got this, right?" He quietly asks.

Ophelia nods, "Yeah, totally," She assures, "And if you die, I promise I'll paint you a mural in the middle of town."

"Reassuring."

Ophelia scoffs, "You asked," Seeing the boy's slight discomfort, Ophelia looks at him seriously, "I'm joking, John B. You'll be fine."

Ophelia creeps off of her bed, careful not to wake up Jj before running across the hall to her studio with her backpack in hand. If her Dads were awake, they's think she'd gone insane.

Maybe she had.

Grabbing everything she needs, Ophelia puts in her contacts, deciding not to wear her glasses. She also puts her hair on a low bun and throws on a dark coloured hoodie, putting the hood up to hide her hair completely.

Once she's ready, Ophelia heads out her balcony, and down the lattice, knowing what she has to do. The blonde girl grabs her bike, and sets off, a bag full of paint on her back, and an idea in her head.

When Ophelia arrives in town, the streets are dead quiet, not a soul awake at the hour. So, Ophelia pedals to the building across the street from the police station. She ditches her bike a block away, jogging to the site of the brick wall.

She moves quickly, setting everything she needs out before starting.

Ophelia feels like she hadn't painted in forever, but moves quicker than she ever has, heart beating out of her chest as the brush meets the wall. Her nerves are through the roof, she's painting right across from the police station. She's openly committing vandalism.

But, Ophelia doesn't care, she wants them to be the ones who have to stare at it.

With a brush in her hands, Ophelia's movements are precise and quick, and her vision comes to life.

She's finished in a few hours, her arms tired, and heart aching.

On the wall, she had painted John B and Sarah. Much like her painting of Hamlet's Ophelia, the couple is half submerged in murky water, reeds and lilypads surrounding them, as they hold hands. Ophelia had painted their expressions as peaceful, because she hopes that's how they feel, wherever they are. In their free hands, Ophelia had painted Sarah holding rosemary, and John B with pansies, both of them clothed in white. Looking up at the painting, the mural, Ophelia lets a few more tears fall, mostly due to the irony.

Ophelia was named after the character, but John B was the one who went mad. He was the one who died.

Ophelia pulls out the brightest red paint she has, using a brush to write the one phrase near the bottom of the mural that she thinks fits: Their death was doubtful.

The words are from Hamlet, spoken about the circumstances of Ophelia's death. It works, to the Pogues, the ones that know the truth, John B had fled for his life. He had been framed. To the law, the ones that had been lied to, he had been trying to flee from his crime. A bullet that escaped a gun by the command of his trigger finger. A crime, a murder, he simply did not commit.

Ophelia steps back, admiring her work. Next, she grabs a spray-on sealant, coating the wall in it. She hopes it'll make the painting harder to remove.

Satisfied, Ophelia gathers her paints, setting them back into her back before she slings the backpack over her shoulders.

Then, a gun cocks, and Ophelia freezes.

"Kildare Police! Hands in the air!" The voice shouts, and Ophelia's heart drops to her stomach as her steady, paint covered hands reach for the sky.

Ophelia doesn't regret it. She had finished it. So, she's not surprised when she lets out a manic laugh, her hands raised with the cop behind her. If John B were there, she knows what she'd say to him.

So much for that clean criminal record. 

---

A/N:

Do I even have to say it?? THANK YOU FOR READING!!

(Should I post my playlist for this book?)

Vibrant has been such a journey, and I'm so sad it's over, but at the same time I'm really proud. Ophelia was barely an idea two months ago, and now she feels like a real person. A friend. Guess what?! With OBX season 2 coming, Ophelia will be back in another book!! If you want, you can follow me for updates, and to see when the book will be posted. 

Thank you for doing this with me. I have felt nothing but love and support for Ophelia, and that makes me so so so happy. I'm glad to know she has so many friends. Genuinely, thank you for reading. The amount this book has grown in such a short time is mind-blowing. THANK YOU!!

If you want, please go back and vote if you haven't already. I'd love for Vibrant to reach more people.

& If you haven't already, I have another Jj book called 'Fearless' and I'm very proud of it and I hope you give it a read. 

Again, thank you guys so much.