1.
Charlie had absolutely no idea where he was.
He lay like a washed-up fish on some beach gazing up into a pink sky. Charlie’s body was wilted in the heat and sweat was pooling above his brow. His curly, red-brown hair was sticking to the sides of his head, wet curls plastered to his forehead like swirls of mahogany paint. His eyes were only half opened; they were blue. A really pretty blue, as his mother had always said. Like the ocean.
Only, Charlie thought, not like this ocean. He glanced down the beach to a sandy shore. This ocean was clear, like glass, with little bits of algae and seaweed floating around in it. Bright fish looked suspended in midair, swimming around through the deep trench that went on for miles, its water invisible …show more content…
The sun ducked behind a single gray cloud on the horizon, casting shade and coolness upon the beach. This was a welcome alternative to the searing heat, and the breeze that followed even left the shadow of a grin on Charlie’s face. His hair was swept aside, leaving his sweaty forehead bare. Somehow the wind snaked its way down the back of Charlie’s shirt, his back-hair prickled and standing up nervously. And just as hushed and quickly as it had come, the shade departed. But the prickling feeling on Charlie’s back did not. It was almost as if… And then he heard someone breathing behind him… He could feel their gaze, on his back, in his head… Visions of a dark cloaked vampire riding a tiger crossed his mind, was it his time already? “Who’re you.” The voice was high, young, and nervous. It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. Charlie did not turn around right away. Something told him that if he did, he might end up with a bullet to the head or turned into a frog. He simply said: “My name’s Charlie,” and, as a polite afterthought, “What’s …show more content…
He turned around and gave the girl named Willow Hardwitch a solemn look. “I don't remember how I got here.” Or, he thought, exactly where here was. Like a washed up fish, muttered something in the back of his head.
“Maybe I washed up here. Like a fish, a really dead fish.”
And then Charlie was suddenly all too aware of the truth his words had held. He didn't remember how he'd gotten here. His memory was as blank as an untouched piece of looseleaf and he sure felt like a washed up fish…
A knot seemed to form in his stomach as he considered these things, so he tossed the thought aside. But this did not stop the feeling that something was swelling in his throat.
The girl named Willow stared at Charlie as though she was looking right through him. She was, he presumed, deep in thought. About what? He didn't know. He never knew with girls.
She was tall, but no taller than Charlie himself. Her dark brown hair was not very long and it lay in waves across her head. It wasn't a girly haircut, but she didn't much look like a girly girl, anyway, so Charlie thought it suited her.
“Maybe,” she bit her lip and spoke slowly, “... Maybe you ought to come with me back into town, Charlie.” Into town? thought Charlie What
Charlie had absolutely no idea where he was.
He lay like a washed-up fish on some beach gazing up into a pink sky. Charlie’s body was wilted in the heat and sweat was pooling above his brow. His curly, red-brown hair was sticking to the sides of his head, wet curls plastered to his forehead like swirls of mahogany paint. His eyes were only half opened; they were blue. A really pretty blue, as his mother had always said. Like the ocean.
Only, Charlie thought, not like this ocean. He glanced down the beach to a sandy shore. This ocean was clear, like glass, with little bits of algae and seaweed floating around in it. Bright fish looked suspended in midair, swimming around through the deep trench that went on for miles, its water invisible …show more content…
The sun ducked behind a single gray cloud on the horizon, casting shade and coolness upon the beach. This was a welcome alternative to the searing heat, and the breeze that followed even left the shadow of a grin on Charlie’s face. His hair was swept aside, leaving his sweaty forehead bare. Somehow the wind snaked its way down the back of Charlie’s shirt, his back-hair prickled and standing up nervously. And just as hushed and quickly as it had come, the shade departed. But the prickling feeling on Charlie’s back did not. It was almost as if… And then he heard someone breathing behind him… He could feel their gaze, on his back, in his head… Visions of a dark cloaked vampire riding a tiger crossed his mind, was it his time already? “Who’re you.” The voice was high, young, and nervous. It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. Charlie did not turn around right away. Something told him that if he did, he might end up with a bullet to the head or turned into a frog. He simply said: “My name’s Charlie,” and, as a polite afterthought, “What’s …show more content…
He turned around and gave the girl named Willow Hardwitch a solemn look. “I don't remember how I got here.” Or, he thought, exactly where here was. Like a washed up fish, muttered something in the back of his head.
“Maybe I washed up here. Like a fish, a really dead fish.”
And then Charlie was suddenly all too aware of the truth his words had held. He didn't remember how he'd gotten here. His memory was as blank as an untouched piece of looseleaf and he sure felt like a washed up fish…
A knot seemed to form in his stomach as he considered these things, so he tossed the thought aside. But this did not stop the feeling that something was swelling in his throat.
The girl named Willow stared at Charlie as though she was looking right through him. She was, he presumed, deep in thought. About what? He didn't know. He never knew with girls.
She was tall, but no taller than Charlie himself. Her dark brown hair was not very long and it lay in waves across her head. It wasn't a girly haircut, but she didn't much look like a girly girl, anyway, so Charlie thought it suited her.
“Maybe,” she bit her lip and spoke slowly, “... Maybe you ought to come with me back into town, Charlie.” Into town? thought Charlie What