Twist of Fate

It's official. My parents hate me! They must or they never would have sent me to stay with my stifling grandparents on the Isle of odd! (I would much rather have gone on book tour with them - what are a few months of missed school in the grand scheme of things?)

The population of Kwakhala Island is currently 19954. Correction, that's now 19955 islanders (YAY ME!). Well, it's not actually an official island. There is a rather large submerged sandbank that runs between the main land and Kwakhala. Technically, it's only an island because the sandbank is drowned for most of the day. A lot, it would seem like any mainlander who tries to stay on the island longer than necessary.

Seriously, at this point, it's only the mystery that makes me want to stick around. I've been here for going on 3 full days, and I still can't put my finger on exactly what's out of place, but something is definitely sketchy.

There's an old man who keeps asking if I've seen them but won't elaborate on 'them'. There are no homeless, none at all, anywhere on the island. There's a lady at the drug store who won't sell to islanders, only mainlanders. She keeps asking my Gran if something is true. But I can't seem to recall exactly what it is they speak about. Red flags much?

Oh, and don't even get me started on the kids around here. It's as if I've walked onto an alien party planet where everyone is tall and shiny and rearing to celebrate all the time.

The most depressing fact of all my ranting, though, is this; there aren't any unattractive people on Kwakhala. I have yet to spot one of any age, and I swear there are no orthodontists or optometrists within a 30km radius. Sure, some of the islanders were eccentric or unique looking, but they were still all obviously attractive

In almost 20 000 locals, I haven't seen a brace face or a be-speckled geek once, let alone acne or a bad haircut, unless it came over on someone from the mainland. You may ask why this is so important to me, and even though I am going to sound utterly conceited, I'll be honest. I've always been the hot girl. The kind of girl who stops conversations and has guys dripping around her kind of hot but not here.

On Kwakhala, I'm not only normal. In fact, by comparison, I'm average... It's not an easy pill to swallow when your exceptionally beautiful face has gotten you out of doing just about anything you didn't want to.

Back home in Kenti, I was Queen Bee, surrounded by faithful followers and honourable suitors throughout school and town. I've always been adored by teachers and parents alike, but when I turned 16, attention on me intensified.

It was the same for my mom growing up until she had her car accident. I guess I could think of worse family curses to be lumbered with, and she did meet my dad at the hospital after her accident, so there's that. I still think my mother's a knockout even with all the well disguised scars.

School on Kwakhala starts soon, so that's going to be interesting and will either make or break me. Although, going on the uniform, I may just survive. I get to wear black or blue denim cut-offs and any white t-shirt to school. I'm looking forward to the combos I'm going to create.

Kwakhala is a glorified steam room. Don't get me wrong, it's doing wonders for my skin and curly hair, but I'm genuinely surprised that everyone doesn't walk around in bikinis and board shorts 24/7. It's too hot to sleep or to breathe, and if I don't get a full night's rest soon, not even my killer body will be able to save my personality shortfalls owing to broken sleep. Also, I've started having weird dreams since I arrived.

There've been a couple where I'm at a party and there's an earth tremor. People run around a lot. In some I'm having random conversations with people I don't know. I'm fully aware that it sounds ridiculous, but they all feel so real.

Last night's dream was the freakiest so far - not because it was disturbing; in fact, the exact opposite. I was sitting next to a guy on sand... somewhere, we had towels wrapped around us, and he was making me laugh hysterically.

His golden skin sent shocks against mine wherever we made contact. We were so obviously in love that I felt it radiate out of us. He asked me to kiss him and called me his 'Belladonna', but as I leaned in to kiss the mysterious man, I woke up.

It's the longest snippet I've remembered from any of the dreams so far and possibly the most terrifying because whoever the guy from my dream was, I was crazy in love with him.

I know that I was asleep, so logically, I know that I was dreaming, but damn it was so real. Like dreaming about something that has happened to me, not something made up by residual thoughts. Unfortunately, the way I felt in the dream travelled through and into me. When I woke up, I couldn't stop replaying it in my head as I went about the day.

I was navigating the path along the shore to my grandparent's house, after my 'uniform' shop when I saw him for the first time. The tattoo on his hand and along his forearm mesmerised me. I'd seen something like it before somewhere.

He held his hand up to his forehead and looked out over the water. He was the most gloriously gorgeous boy I've ever seen, and he made something twitch in my head. Oh no... please don't let this place turn me into one of those soppy girls, egh.

Luckily, he couldn't see me staring, so I took my fill quietly. A wetsuit hung off his hips, and I followed a trail that droplets of moisture made as they dripped from his hair and down his ripped body. Maybe Kwakhala wasn't all bad!

My heart started pumping, furiously forcing me to swallow little gulps of air. I looked back at him again and was deeply disturbed by the sight. So much so that I ran up the wooden stairs and home without looking back. That night, I had my first dream about the beautiful boy.

In my dream he called to my spirit, physically coaxing it out of me. I felt the magnetic pull of him and gaped at myself as puffs of luminous electrified dust started curling out of me and towards him.

I was outside of myself watching the scene unfold, but I couldn't do a thing. The euphoria of seeing him wore off quickly and was replaced by raw fear. I've never felt anything like it before. Pure undiluted panic tore through me, and out of nowhere, I shrieked a glass shattering scream into my pillow.

I was fully awake, and he was gone, leaving me to sweat and shiver on my own in the dark. The next morning, I couldn't decide whether it had been a nightmare or my subconscious trying to warn me to stay away from the boy with the tattoo.

My dad called after breakfast, and we discussed it. He was ridiculously into dreams and their subliminal meanings. I chewed on my fingernail and waited while he clicked his tongue against his palate, digesting what I'd said.

"What does he look like, exactly?" my father asked finally. "What? Um, I er I don't know, really. He was beautiful da, like everyone else on this silly island but more intense. Dark hair, really dark and tall, I didn't really he was far away, da."

I felt my confidence slide further down my legs as I wished I could take that all back and start again. "Nyx, I need you to remember, baby. It's in there. Doesn't have to be right now. I'll call you later." He finished off expectantly. "Okay, I'll work on it. Catch up later."

Relief oozed out of me but the niggling sensation that my dad was a little too concerned over a random guy dream nibbled at me. "I love you Nyxi." He told me. "Love you too da."

I spent the rest of the day walking around the island, first with both my Grandparents then just my Grandad, doing errands. The man knew every-one and introduced me until my head spun.

We parted ways after lunch. He went back into the island's centre to fetch gran but I wanted to stay near the water. The tide would start ebbing away soon, offering a path to the mainland for a few hours.

I hadn't witnessed it yet and I wanted to see the hundred odd mainlanders that worked on the island leave. Also I love the water here in the late afternoon; it feels as though I can taste the day's fun on the waves; ice-cream, oil and board wax. I dragged air in greedily and ran my fingers along my surf board before laying back on it.

I swear I only closed my eyes for a few seconds but when I tuned out from tuning in (I love being in the water and listening to my surroundings) the back of my eyelids had gone from bright red to maroon. That wasn't what made my heart stop though.

He was close, I could feel him. Against every instinct I stayed still and calmed my galloping heart then I felt out around myself. I know that sounds weird but my dad says it's our true 5th sense, our ability to read our environment. It's kind of like picking up on a surrounding vibe.

The water that had been fresh and sleek a minute ago became viscous and thick. A lazy haze settled in around me, I felt it stroke my cheeks and sighed involuntarily. The sharp intake of breath confirmed my suspicions; the boy with the mandala tattoo was near.

I rolled my head to one side and slit my shut lids a fraction... nothing. My head went over the other way and looked up into impossibly blue eyes. After almost flipping my board, I righted myself while the guy did nothing but look me up and down like he was trying to figure me out.

"Looking for something?" I shot my eyebrows up at him and crossed my arms over my chest. His hand tattoo caught my eye again; I could now see that it wasn't a mandala in the true sense. I itched to ask about it but couldn't bring myself to. I swear I'd seen it before.

"I am... but I can't...why did I dream of you, what are you?" As his expression changed, so did the weather. Suddenly, the sun was being held hostage by some pretty agro looking grey clouds. "Excuse me, who am I? Nyxi and who are you?"

"I'm Sable. Nikki? That doesn't make sense. I can feel..." He started saying something but cut off mid explanation. His head snapped up, and he swore under his breath. "I will see you again...Nikki." He stared at me for a few seconds as if waiting for something, and when it didn't come, he stomped away.