PROAÍSTHIMA

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Cally stirs in her sleep as a gentle breeze caresses her exposed skin from the open window. A sigh leaves her lips as she slowly comes to consciousness. She blearily wipes her blonde hair out of her eyes and pulls herself up into a sitting position. Her gaze travels to the open window, a smile twisting up her lips at the sight before her.

Beyond the porch outside her window lay the rolling dunes. Sea oats sway as the breeze blows down the deserted beach. Crystal blue waves crash against the shore as pelicans swoop down from above, easily catching fish in their eager beaks.

She also notices that the breeze is blowing much stronger than it normally does, along with a dark strip of clouds on the horizon.

Deciding it's probably time to get up, as it's almost 8:00, Cally stands from her reclined position, stretching her arms above her head as she does so. She pads into her en suite, humming a tune under her breath as she prepares herself a shower. She has been looking forward to this day since they first planned the trip.

Today was to be spent sailing on the south side of the island. Her parents had already rented a small sailboat for them to use on their aquatic escapade, and Cally couldn't be more excited to go out on the open ocean. Although, with the strength of the wind and the ominous clouds in the distance, perhaps they may not go.

A small voice in the back of her mind quietly whispered of the possible dangers of the water, urging her to remember the fear-stricken face of the village man. Wouldn't it be silly to push her luck? Maybe it isn't a mermaid that is stalking the island, but there is something. Cally brushes the voice aside; this was her day of fun and nothing was going to stop her from enjoying herself--not even a storm or the rumor of a flesh eating monster.

She goes about her normal morning routine, still humming the same tune. Music is a big part of Cally's life, as she spends most of her time either singing or playing her ukelele, though she never sings for others besides Ethan. Cally was far too afraid to sing to anyone else.

But yes, she has a lovely voice. She wants to write her own songs, but has never had the imagination to do so, preferring to just sing along to the artists whose songs play through the earbuds that are nearly constantly in her ears.

After her shower, she slips on a navy blue swimsuit that complements her pale complexion. It was just a simple suit with thin straps that crisscrossed over her back and attached to the strings in the back, which were tied neatly in a bow. The front was a simple, low scoop neck, something she could easily pull off with her small breasts. The bottoms weren't flashy either, just plain navy blue fabric that fit her athletic curves.

She threw a pair of ripped shorts and a loose tank top on over it and slipped sandals on her feet. With her hair still slightly damp from her shower, she leaves it down. Grabbing her water-proof camera, she leaves her room and heads to the kitchen.

The camera was a Christmas gift from her little brother. She had always liked photography, almost as much as she loved music. It didn't take the best pictures, but it was water-proof, which made it easy to take with her on her many outdoor adventures.

She enters the main living area to see Ethan already up and ready to go, no doubt just as excited for today as Cally is. He wears sunglasses perched low on his little nose and a floppy hat adorns his head. He hasn't noticed her yet, as he is busy checking out his arms as he flexes them.

"Whatcha doing, bud?" Cally questions with an amused smile on her lips.

"Oh, hi, Cally. Look at this shirt!" He says, gesturing to his muscle shirt with a Minion on it. "It has no sleeves, so you can see my muscles!" At that, he flexes his little noodle arms, clearly seeing more muscle than what is actually there.

"Uh huh," she mumbles at his silly antics as she heads to the cabinet to fetch some cereal.

He is a rather rambunctious little boy, and would sometimes get on her nerves when he disrupted her quiet, but she probably loved him more than both of her parents combined.

It's not that she didn't love her parents, but she never quite clicked with them. They just didn't understand her quirky, introverted nature. Ethan, on the other hand, was amazed by anything she did. He would listen to her play music and demand she perform mini concerts for him, and in turn, she would always cheer for him at his little league baseball games.

"Have you eaten yet, little bud?" She asked. She never called him by his first name, unless she was mad at him, that is.

He shrugs. "I forgot."

She chuckles a bit, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet and setting them on the bar and pulling out a stool. "Here, you might want to eat before the trip. Don't want you to get hungry half way through and have your stomach ruin your day."

A flash of horror crosses his face. "No, that won't happen. I'll eat."

She chuckles again as he greedily snatches the Lucky Charms from her and pours himself a heaping serving. The two chat animatedly back and forth, smiles on their faces as they eat their Lucky Charms.

If only she knew it would be the last meal they had together for a very, very long time.

~•~

The walk to the marina isn't a long one, only about a mile. Cally spent the entire time staring up at the sky, almost willing the dark clouds to go away. Maybe it was childish to act as she was, but she ignored the thought.

By the time they reach the marina, the sun is almost at its peak. According to Cally's watch, its 11:43 a.m. The family ventures down the dock to their destination: a small dock with rows and rows of rentable sailboats.

They enter a small shop, a bell ringing at their entry. The atmosphere was clearly geared towards fisherman with all of the fishing equipment and bait. Cally scrunches her nose at the unfamiliar stench of raw fish.

She vaguely hears her father talking to the man behind the desk as she meanders through the shop, her fingers occasionally brushing some of the merchandise.

"Alright! Y'all ready to go?" Cally's father says excitedly, raising a small pair of keys in his hand, jingling them.

"Are you sure? The storm looks a little rough..." her mother says, squinting her eyes at the horizon.

"Well, we can ask the locals, right? They probably deal with storms all the time," Cally suggests, nodding towards the grungy-looking man behind the counter.

"I guess so," her father says with a shrug of his thin shoulders.

He approaches the counter, looking entirely out of place with his khakis and over the top Hawaiian T-shirt. The man never looked up from his magazine.

"We were just wondering if, as a local, you thought the storm was too rough to go sailing in? We were looking and weren't su--"

"You'll be fine," the man says, cutting him off.

"Oh! Uh, alright then. Have a great day, sir!"

The man grunts in response, flipping the page of his magazine. Cally's father turns around, shrugging his shoulders.

"Guess we are alright, then."

The small family makes their way out to the dock, looking for a boat with the number 29 on its side.

"Is that one it?" Ethan asks, jogging over to a small, white sailboat with 29 stamped on its side in red.

"Probably," Cally says.

The boat really is small, only about sixteen feet in length. As her father busies with the sails and trolling motor, Cally watches the ocean before her, unable to shake the feeling that something very, very bad would happen.

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