The water makes me feel at peace(Charade)

Irene Sykes

The late afternoon was ever the best time for personal reflection as Irene had previously decided. It had been an awkward day; which was regrettably normal for her, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it turning out like that. Her parents were once again off doing a family actively which meant that they were out to dinner without their three daughters. And since her siblings had better things to do than to listen to her mope about her experiences, she had excused herself from the house and taken a walk down by the shoreline. As she hated sandals she was still wearing a pair of sneakers as the sand softly crunched beneath her steps. With school already out for the day, those with jobs on boats were coming in their catches as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the beams of light each painting each cloud like individual paintbrushes on the easel of the world. Moving closer to where the waves lapped at the sand, she stared at the her that stared back from the blueness of the water. Irene was not a vain girl, but sometimes she felt like the girl in the water was so much more courageous then her.

Floating peacefully in the water some distance away from Irene was a boy. Her first thought was that he was dead, a bloated corpse trailing through the saltwater as fish nibbled at his eyes; a boy that had fallen from a ship or perhaps had been beaten senseless and then disposed of in the great expanse that bordered the district. Morbid thoughts, but the kind she was used to having. A pessimistic outlook on life was liberating for her, because meant never looking forward to anything meant never being disappointed. Still, she found herself wondering about the other teenager. Who had the spare time to just let the ocean take their body aimlessly where it would at a whim? Apparently this lad. He was breathing, which was always a good sign, but other than that he didn't seem to be paying any attention to his surroundings at all. That was unhealthy and a surefire way to get himself killed. Irene stopped walking at that thought and watched him float with his eyes closed.

Sitting down in the sand, causing a little plume of the finely ground material to rise, she drew her knees up to her chest and thought about what she could do to prevent his lungs from filling up with liquid until they burst. Grabbing a nearby rock she tossed it in his general direction, letting it vanish with a sploosh close to his body. She kept silent, waiting to see what the boy would do, her arms around her knees, and her eyes fixed on him expectantly. Though she didn't expect him to do much other than ignore her.

Irene Sykes

The boy called something out as he swam closer, having been disturbed by her projectile. She couldn't hear most of it, but she did catch the words "fight" and "rocks" on the wind. Did he really think she had nothing better to do than to pick fights with strangers? Her, the amazing invisible girl start a tussle? Not in this lifetime. As he exited the surf, his features defined themselves from a hazy blur to that of a muscular dark-haired boy. He looked around Katrina's age, as well as looking the type of person her older sister took efforts to avoid. Self-assured, full of himself, and probably a career, trained in the arts of killing. Maybe he hadn't been floating peacefully; maybe he was seeing how long he could hold his breath while holding someone under the water until they drowned. After all that's what careers liked to do. Hurt people. He came closer and she tightened her grip on her legs, clearly she must have made a mistake by alerting him to her presence.

It was a surprise to her ears when he launched into a rather long-winded semi-poetical explanation of his activities after asking her what her business at the beach was. He then went on to introduce himself as Panama and to ask for her name, proffering a handshake as he did so. Staring at his hand as if it were a a dead fish, but not making any move to unlatch her arms from her legs, she then looked him in the eye and started answering his questions. "I'm just...sitting." She replied quietly. "I'm sorry for startling you. I didn't mean... I'm Irene."Bringing her gaze back to the open sea, she watched the waves roll in, overlapping each other as they fought to reach the shoreline. It didn't seem as if Panama ( if that was really his name) was going to anywhere anytime soon, which meant she'd have to keep the conversation going. Not her strong suit. especially when it came to people that looked like careers.

"Drowning wouldn't be such a bad way to go would it Relaxing. Cold. Numb. It... wouldn't hurt. Right?" If he thought she was a mite odd, he wouldn't be any different from anyone else that she came across. In fact, he might leave her in peace. Or maybe he was one of those inquisitive folk that would want to talk more. Only time would tell. For the moment, Irene could only mentally smack herself for being so socially impaired.