Entwined Worlds

Chapter Two: Emily

(Emily's point of view)

I walk out of the front door. The sound of the waves crashing onto the pale white sand delighted ears. The shimmering sunlight made the sand sparkle like a million jewels. I felt a soft breeze creeping down my neck. Ah, this is the life.

I made my way down the oak stairs onto the gritty sand that sifts through my feet. I set my possessions down on the golden dust and charge into the deep blue ocean. My body immediately adjusts to the cool, satisfying water. I swim further out where I can dive and float to my heart’s content. No one can find me here. Everything back on land, every memory, floats away like a boat on water. My heart has swum a million miles to find its home.

I dive deep, deeper into the depths of the water. The pressure does not resist me. I lie on the seabed, watching the sun reflect on the surface of the ocean. I do not drown. I do not hold my breath. Down here, I breathe better than ever. The water is rich with oxygen. Nothing matters when I’m down here. Nothing.

My hair is floating round me like bamboo in the wind. I am calm, relaxed, free. The fish glide above me, like ballet dancers. The seaweed sways with their movements. They are the crowd watching upon the performance. The crowd’s applause is the waves.

I spend seconds, minutes, hours down in this tranquil land. All my worries and fears are gone. Disappeared in the click of a finger. The dance still goes on but now with new performers. The anchovies have swapped for clownfish.

‘Encore, encore!’ the crowd shouts with their soothing voices. The spotlights are becoming orange and peach, instead of turquoise and Bondi blue. Damn, the sun is setting. I’ve spent too long down here on the ocean floor. How could I say that, though? I can never get enough of the sea.

I submerge out the diamond liquid. The small key around my neck is no longer floating around me: it is resting safely against my heart. I race to the shore. The water drips off my body onto to the sand. The seagulls cry their tunes as I dry myself with my towel. Thank God my stuff wasn’t stolen.

I run up the wooden stairs that splinter my feet up onto the hard concrete. To my horror, I see some balloons bobbing up by my parents. A banner is spread across the door stating: HAPPY ANIVERSARY.

Oh damn, it’s my parents’ wedding anniversary party. How could I’ve gone down to the sea, on this most special of days? I see a car pull up and I hide behind a tree. A young woman steps out. The wind flies up her crystal white dress. Clutched in her hand is a perfectly wrapped gift with a crimson ribbon tied around it. I’ve got a couple of minutes to figure out how to get into the house, have a shower, get dressed, brush my hair and be at the party without anyone noticing. This is going to be impossible – or will it?

More cars pull up by the house now. The longer I spend here, thinking of what I could do, the harder it becomes. Okay, I’m going to improvise this one. I jump behind another tree, then another until I reach the last tree in front of the house as my mother (well, actually, adoptive mother) invites the guests, into my house, her rosy cheeks lighting up the room. Her caramel blonde hair reflects the sunlight as she peers out of the doorway to check if anyone else was arriving. She shakes her head and closes the door gently. I see the door did not close properly; it rested on the doorframe. If I get there at the right moment, no one would notice me sneaking in. I take a deep breath in; the smell of the sea tingling the tip of my nose, tiptoe to the door and open it. The music had stopped. They had seen me. There I was, in the doorway, soaking wet, at my parent’s wedding anniversary. I – was – toast.

My father’s face had gone from very cheery to extremely (and I mean extremely) angry. His eyes were bulging out of his head and, if they, could, probably would’ve exploded. Mummy’s usual smile had faded and now was very stern looking. I had strolled casually into my mum and dad’s anniversary, wrapped in a towel and soaked to the brim. As Mummy strode over to me, Daddy gave a very fake chuckle and he turned on the music.