d4 . darla jones

For a moment the sun glanced off her pale face, a quick glimpse of sun-kissed golden hair, but as she dipped below the surface it swallowed her whole. It embraced her and she leaned into it, pushing her body down further and further with each strong kick until the pressure in her ears made her head ache. As the moments went by the ache in her ears faded, replaced by a slow burn in her chest as her body consumed all the oxygen available.

Darla Jones was a girl who loved the thrill that awaited at the moment you felt as if you could not continue. Career training had taught her to seize the pain that demanded every inch of your being and push it as hard and far as you could into the depths of your pain cave. There you let it be, you let it fight for its shot at freedom, and whilst it tousled and wandered through the darkness you had nothing to hold you back.

The same skills had followed her into every aspect of her life, it pushed her to dive deeper and fight against the pressure that threatened her. It taught you to suppress the burn in her lungs for longer and to fight against, it had taught her to be strong and brave and not ashamed of herself. Evie said she was a handful, and that one day she'd find herself with a fist against her cheek for saying the wrong thing. It never stopped her, grinning along with the joke, her brown eyes lighting up with adventure and excitement.

The truth had always been the only thing she knew, there was no need to hide behind dishonesty or lies. Her brashness mingled with her outgoing personality and she often found herself within the thick of the crowd, loud voice demanding to be heard over others. There was often a sting to the way she spoke, unrestrained carelessness as the truth prevailed no matter the circumstances. Sometimes she forgot that not everyone wanted to hear what you thought and that they’d rather their wounds be covered with bandaids and mended with half-truths and lies.

There was no maliciousness behind the way Darla acted, her mother had always told her she was a gentle girl, the trainers at the career centre knew that she refused to spar when it required going until one could not get up. She preferred the dance that was derived from moving with a spear, the way you twirled, jabbed, and stepped. And boy could she dance with a spear, she let it draw her along an extension of her being, the same weapon she used in the water when she was fishing.

The spear shot forward, striking into the flesh of the fish she’d seen just moments ago, a flash from the corner of her away. The water bubbled around her movements as she dragged the spear towards her body, before she turned her gaze upwards, kicking with her strong legs towards the surface of the ocean. The burn in her chest begged for a breath of fresh air, and she paused before the surface, clinging to the last few seconds, believing that it would only make her stronger.

She broke through the surface with an undignified gasp, swallowing a gulp of air, the ache in her lungs dissolving after a few moments. Not too far off in the distance a boat bobbed against the gentle waves. She could hear the gentle lap as each one bumped against the side of the trawler, it was the smaller one of the five her family owned. It was the only one her mum would let her disappear on for her day time adventures.

Slow, lazy kicks sent her at an uneven pace as she swam towards the boat. She could see Evie’s moving figure on the boat, probably waiting for her return, thinking she’d been under for too long. Evie had a tendency to worry about Darla too much, between the two of them Darla was by far the tamer. Even though she could rule a party and offend an entire room before finishing her first drink, Evie loved to participate in gruesome fights that left her bloody and beaten. Years had passed since Darla had last worried about Evie, it was wasted energy at this point. The same couldn’t be said for Evie who constantly worried about what kind of mess she would be dragged into because of Darla.

Evie had grown up beside her, living and breathing together in the same house with their mums. They both had different fathers, and they were best friends and sisters. Ten years after their mum’s had started the Trawling business they’d got married. “That took long enough,” was Darla’s only comment on the situation, knowing fully well that the two women had been in love for longer than that.

As the boat neared she reached forwards, extending the spear and fish towards the space beside the motor and propeller. Evie popped around the side, arms folded in annoyance, eyes flaring with a spark of anger that had Darla sheepishly grinning. “What took you so long?” The admonishment soured Darla’s grin and she had the decency to look a little regretful of her actions, “you know I like to push hard.” The spear was sent over the edge, landing with a loud clatter as she hurled herself out of the ocean and onto the edge.

”You’re going to get yourself killed at some point.” Darla snorted, turning to look over at Evie, “And cage fighting is the epitome of a healthy lifestyle?” She stared at Evie for a moment, the girl looked as if she might argue her point, but held her tongue, with a shrug the fight was declared a win for Darla and she grinned once more.

“We’ll both find an early grave together, it seems.” Darla stood up, clapping Evie on the shoulder with a chuckle. Her friends shoulders instantly relaxed, knowing fully well that the disagreement had been resolved. She picked up the speared fish, tossing it into the cooler that was now full. It was a good haul, her mum would be satisfied and if she was ever going to be allowed to take over the company she would have to catch many more fish.

With Evie's help, she'd get there, the two of them could get through anything. "Let's go home, Eve."