DROP 00: FIRST DROP
The first sensation came. Cold. Icy coldness enveloped every inch of my body. As much as I wanted to keep my eyes closed until the end, they flew open on their own. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t see anything through the dark abyss. For some reason, I’d taken a deep breath first. It could be chocked up to reflex, or maybe fear. Drowning would not be a pleasant experience.
As I sank, my life flashed before my eyes. I saw my mom, who had been dead for several years. She loved me more than anything else in the world; this much I remembered--unlike that asshole who dared call himself a father. Anyone who could punch their daughter in the face for coming home late did not deserve a child.
Even if I wanted to turn back, to swim up and take another shot at life, I would never be able to--My boots were heavy and pulled me deeper by the second.
I closed my eyes again, ignoring the urge to open my mouth and take a breath.
My mother’s blonde hair blew in the wind as we stood on the hill outside of Crimson Wharf. We had a favorite tree there; a tree I would never see again. Mom and I would sit under the sycamore, and have picnics, read stories, and even play board games. It all seemed so silly now. Then again, I’d only been a nine years old.
Burning spread across my lungs, and before long my oxygen would run out, my mouth would open, and the water would rush in, filling me. Maybe they’d find my bloated corpse on the beach by the pier, or maybe they’d never find me at all. No one would ever know the reason for my suicide. At that moment, I regretted not having left a note. Again, I could never turn back the hands of time. Death would claim me soon.
In the deepest recesses of my mind, I heard my own voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger. But I have nothing left to live for. An abusive dad, a jerk of a boyfriend, and not a friend to speak of in the world. Can you blame me? Can anyone really blame me? The world...is better off without Kyrie Garnet.”
My inner dialogue ceased as my mouth finally burst open, and the water rushed in. I grabbed my throat and choked. It dawned on me then; I didn’t actually WANT to die. I just wanted things to get better. Reaching down, I tried to untie my left boot, but I couldn’t get a hold of the lace. No! I didn’t want to die! I wanted to live!
My body no longer wanted to function, as I sank into the silence of the deep. I’d screwed up, just like always. My final act would be considered one huge screw up. Life had come to an end.
Air exploded around me, and I flew through the air. There came a loud splash as I slammed into the pier. Water expelled itself from my mouth as I choked and sucked in rapid breaths.
I couldn’t understand what had happened; how I’d been saved, but then a pair of bare feet padded by my head and I saw a lithe, silhouette jumped onto the railing, and then leap. The leap couldn’t have been possible, for the person soared thirty feet and disappeared into the shadows at the base of the light house.
“What in the hell?” I whispered as I finally caught my breath.
Everything inside told me to run as home as fast as I could. This person, or creature--thing--defied physics. Instead of fleeing, I got to my feet and ran a few steps, but my waterlogged, tall boots, slowed me down. Kneeling, I untied each boot just enough to slip my feet out. I ran down the pier, to the stairs onto the beach.
“Hello?” I called out as I neared the road to the lighthouse.
No answer came, but I could see the form moving, in the dark.
“I see you, ya know!” I shouted. “Come out. I just want to thank you.”
The form launched out of the darkness and landed in the sand just a few feet away. My mouth fell open as I stared at the beautiful girl. She had hair, the color of the sky on a cloudless day, and her ruby lips contrasted off of her pale skin. I stepped back as she finished zipping up her corset, which did little to hide her cleavage.
“H-How did you--?”
She held a finger to my lips, and I shut up. The girl took my hand in hers and turned it over. “You’re finger’s bleeding.” Her voice soothed my sadness just with those three words.
“I must’ve cut my finger when I jumped--I mean, fell into the ocean,” I whispered.
She plucked my fingertip into her mouth and sucked. Tingling and goosebumps exploded all over all of my skin. My mouth hung open as she dropped my hand and licked her lips.
The girl giggled, and held up her finger, showing me its flawless nature. To my horror, long fangs sprouted from her mouth, and she bit her lifted digit. I wanted to run, I wanted to scream ‘monster!’ and escape as fast as possible, but my feet froze in place. The girl put her bleeding finger to my lips and stared at me. I could only stare back.
With a smile and a nod, she put her finger between my lips. She had cold blood, but it tasted sweeter than I would’ve expected. She nodded again, and on instinct, I sucked for a brief moment, drawing more of the substance into my mouth. I swallowed it down, enthralled by this beautiful girl.
She pulled back and pointed behind me. I spun around, expecting to find another such, fanged person. I found nothing but the trees on the edge of the beach. Turning back, I found the aqua-haired girl had vanished.
“Huh? W-Wait! Where’d you go?” I asked.
I looked toward the pier and spotted a black cat leaping onto it from the sand, but other than that, I stood alone, barefoot, soaking wet, and cold, on Crimson Wharf Beach.
“See you later,” came a voice from nowhere. “Blood sister.”
Little did I know just what that title would come to mean, and how my life had just changed, forever.