Hair the golden color of a falling star.
Eyes of crystal, the color of a beautiful spring at the mouth of a river.
A leather jacket, the color of midnight on a lunar eclipse.
Skin, the vivid color of a summer sunset.
That was what he was made of. Beauty and color, but darkness and mystery.
Her purple hair waves in the smoke filled wind.
The city fumed and burnt with its rage before her.
Her eyes the color of the dark earth.
Her skin made of ivory.
That was what she was made of. Happiness and power, anger and passion.
The flames festered and continued to burn as they angered. They tortured the town until it stood on its last leg. The boy stood dead in the heart of it. He was frozen, unable to save the world from mass destruction.
The girl stood atop the bridge. She, as well, was frozen. Her heart pounded. Her hands numbed. Her skin the same as a ghost’s.
The plot had succeeded, she had to accept it. It was the end of the world as she knew it. For once in history, the dark side had won. This was no fairytale. This was no happy ending or once upon a time.
The girl breathed deeply in and deeply out. She hugged the wall behind her, it was the last strand of security. The boy came running towards the bridge. He climbed the spiral staircase as fast as his human legs could carry his weight. When at the top, he saw the girl.
“Celeste!” He rejoiced.
The girl turned to face him, her dark eyes unusually cold, despite their chocolaty brown warmth.
“Soul!” She cried. At least one thing was going right, at least he’s safe.
The bridge’s struts began to moan and the earth below them began to shake, as if quaking in fear. The boy’s eyes widened, “Celeste! We have to go! If we stay here we’ll die!” He outstretched his hand towards the girl.
But she did not budge, “No.”
“No?” The boy repeated questioningly.
“No,” the girl repeated harshly, “I’m not leaving.”
“But what about our happily ever after? What about us?” He asked getting quite irritated with the girl’s stubbornness.
The ground shook once again, the girl almost fell off the edge, but somehow, she stayed on. The boy panicked, “Please Celeste,” He begged.
The girl shook her head fiercely, her amethyst hair covering her eyes, “No Soul no.”
The boy, by this time, was completely over this one’s behavior. He clenched his fists and stomped his feet, like a child, better yet, a child that always gets what he wants.
The girl sighed, looking down at the bone-chilling water below her then back to the boy and again, the water. “I love you,” she said, “always remember that.”
The boy had no time to respond to the girl’s final words. The girl had leaped off the bridge willingly. She fell, the wind growing colder and faster around her, her violet hair becoming knotted plums as her neared the end of the way down. Suddenly, on no queue, she was swallowed and engulfed by the gapping jaws of the monstrous and powerful water. Its crystal color, even in the dark of night, still reminded her of the boy still standing on the bridge.
She shivered as the water pressed the last bit off air out of her lungs.
But why would this girl willingly jump to her doom?
Well, My dear reader, there is a good explanation for that. It all started when the very same girl was just a little too naughty, and far too uncautious, and maybe a little bit, just a little bit, too curious. Yes, it happened only a few short months ago, when her beloved brother started keeping secrets, and tensions grew, plots brewed, and the only ones that could stop it; were four idiotic Australian spies and a billionaire’s little sister.
This girl was a different one than the one you saw jump from the bridge, she was meaner, she was more livid, and she was more…. Unpredictable, and untamable.
Let’s rewind a bit, let’s go back to where the story starts. It started on a weekend in May, a very odd weekend in May. It was chillier than normal, and gray clouds swirled overhead threatening to pour. The girl, and her two best friends walked on the street, hungry, for revenge...
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