Adventure, danger. Danger, adventure. For Belli Cordova, it didn't matter much.
They were both adrenaline rushes.
With nothing but the bikini she had on and the board between her thighs, Belli watched as her counterpart destroyed the world. Agatha's angry waves lapped at her surfboard, cream and ivory entwined with teal designs she'd handpainted herself, and her nose wrinkled at the mango surf wax that ebbed off the board.
She knew she shouldn't, but it was so tempting her lips tingled and the legs she dipped into the ocean froze over. She knew she sure as hell should not, but as Belli Cordova swam into the eye of the storm, she saw the mirage Danger painted for her. Or perhaps it was God. For a second her frazzled brain thought it was her sister that speeded towards her in a boat of ivory white, but by the time she wiped God's tears from her eyes, Bryony Cordova was gone. If she had ever been there in the first place.
For it was June and the world smelled of destruction and temptation. It was June and the winds couldn't stop screaming Sabella's name.
It was June and Bryony Cordova was gone.
A crack ran across her glass heart, finding weaknesses that were once invisible. From the perfect window to something belonging in the pits of darkness, perhaps straight from the depths of Hell, because it can only be Hell where such sorrow exists...one moment Belli was swaying in the sea, hair flying back in the wind-
The next...like a coil suddenly relieved of tension, fragments of her heart, her mind, her soul were flying outward until they lay still, yet vicious in the dark, summer sea.
That night, breaking glass became Belli's art, her calling card. Watching them shatter released just a wisp of the despair, the rage, that kept her upright, a sort of modern bloodletting that allowed her to sleep the next night.
Barely.
Truly the only thing that kept her going was the belief that her sister wasn't dead. There was simply no way Bryony Cordova would leave this world without making her presence known to all that dwelled. Her name would be the lighting, the thunder, and her name would be carved into the atmosphere. But instead, it was Sabella that was roared over and over.
Belli used to find comfort in storms, but she vowed the world would know no peace until her comfort was her sister in her arms.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SHE WOKE to bruised ribs and burnt pancakes.
There was a familiar ache in her chest—raw, blazing, burning. In the hum of the morning, the roaring in her ears became a thousand trumpets louder. It was loud in two ways; like thunder and storm fury and waves angry at the shore, but also, whispers. Words struggling to escape and the sound of a heart monitor in a hopeless room.
Beep...beep...beep...
Silence.
Her phone lay on top of a signed copy of The Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune on her bedside table. The cover was limited edition and Belli had been the first to purchase Hera Burberry's hand-painted masterpiece. She grabbed her phone to check the time before grimacing when she realized the charger hadn't gone in and the device was dead. She really shouldn't have thrown out that alarm clock.
