to be pretty | 2018

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IV

SITTING by the water was Alene’s only place free of complexity these days. The waves that crashed on golden sands was her utopia in a world of dangerous white noise.

The tranquillity she felt by the shore was incomparable to any place she had ever been. Her mind found rest by the broken sea shells.

Alene’s hazel eyes gazed out to the cold water, imagining the soft blankets of waves caressing her cheeks as she drifted further away from dry land.

It was a thought she really should have been getting of her mind. It was dangerous, selfish.

Beautiful.

Her heart fell to her stomach as she heard the sound of laughter emanating from down the path.

A narcissistic side of her brain screeched that this was the path that she had founded, she had created, she had loved. But it was just some old footpath.

Some old footpath which she had first found herself staring at the most beautiful girl - most beautiful person - she had ever seen in her life.

Though it had only been a bordering eighteen years, she sincere doubted that anyone could even compare to Ember.

She still remembered so vividly watching as the girl, only six at the time, collected shells from the beach from below the path.

Ember had huffed, blowing her curly hair from her eyes as she tried to carry more than she could hold in her arms.

Even then, Alene’s heart pounded with some unknown feeling.

She didn’t think that would ever change.

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