Sand soaked in the tides as they fanned toward and away from the small beach. Whenever my feet fell upon the surface, a tickling sensation climbed up to my heels and the soft coating was ruined, but only slightly. Once another wave rolled in, hardly any traces of my passing remained. It was soothing. The seagulls flying overhead from the horizon cawed like wheezing toys from years past. Leaves rustled in the light breeze that also pushed several strands of wavy auburn hair across my face.
I continued to walk, almost at peace. It was rare that I would get such chances. Usually, people stared at me as though a virus was invading their city. My outward appearance did not vary much from their own. Perhaps they received vibes about who I truly was and perceived it the wrong way. I sighed at the thought. It was time for tranquility, not analysis.
My ears perked up. Someone else stepped into the tide. But who? It was a Tuesday morning, the time when most people were at work or driving to it. Children would be on their way to school. The elderly would be inside until the clocks struck twelve, when their caretakers were ready to let them explore the gardens and seashore. I quietly shuddered, and advanced my pace.
More splashes could be heard behind me. The salty scent of the ocean was now infused with the aroma of sweet huikre blossoms that no human could have found on Earth.
My first error: I turned my head. A man in a long white trench coat, a short, dark-haired girl who seemed roughly seventeen, and a bloodhound on a leather leash, walked along. Their eyes certainly were on me.
“It’s definitely her!” the man called out as his brisk walk turned into a run.
Only a second later, I was sprinting as fast as my legs could take me. If only I could fly!
I looked toward my right. My only escape from the eminent capture on land. I rushed through the oncoming waves, too afraid to truly think of the idiocy of my situation. I was never a strong swimmer. My breath could hold, lasting five minutes, maybe seven if I concentrated hard enough. It was not nearly enough. Not against them. Nevertheless, I doused myself in water, pushing the water past in order to fade into the bottom.
As I submerged myself, the color of my skin and clothes adapted to that of the algae which insisted on clinging to my being. Currents brushed against my face as I propelled myself toward the ocean floor filled with eels, coral, seaweed, and trash. Left and right were open waters. Fish filled the spaces, but no rocks could serve as a cover, one I desperately needed to preserve myself and the future of the Qi Merova, my race. Unfortunately, the man in the trench coat and girl would know that full well seeing as I was one of five left guarding the codes.
CONTENT BY BRIANNA G HARTE
Copyright © 2015 BGH. All rights reserved.