Cerberi

Chapter 1

I stood barefoot on the cold, slightly damp grass of the Cliffside pitch, one of the larger fields that ran along the cliff to the bay. The darkness brought a slight chill to the air and cut through the humidity that had lingered from that day. My long black loose sleeved jacket blew gently behind me, the wind catching it, an invisible force swirling the fabric and cooling my body beneath it.

The lanterns gently lit up patches of the dark air and the stalls of the summer festival emitted a cheerful warmth that was beautiful and enticing. The lanterns shook gently in the soft wind as I walked through the fete. Moving past a small red tent I felt the glowing heat and my nostrils filled with the blissful aroma of freshly baked pretzels, mixed with sugar and cinnamon and melted chocolate. "Later" I whispered to myself as I smiled at the stall owner, who gave me a little wave in response.

Continuing onwards I came to a little stall full of magnificent trinkets, some dark, some Celtic, some that were beautifully crafted sculptures that doubled as incense holders. I wandered over to the stall and leant over to look closely at the pieces. They were all novelty but I couldn't help being attracted to so many of the little things. Feeling around in my pocket and gleefully realising that I had more change than I had thought, I searched a little longer, gently moving items out of the way to see what hid underneath. The stall owner asked me, with a smile, if I needed any help,

"No, I'm okay thank you, these are beautiful, though, did you make them?"

"Most of them," she smiled proudly, "but some I found at boot fairs or charity shops,"

"I love them," I smiled, gently picking one up and carefully placing it back down again. After some rummaging, I came across a little necklace that looked somewhat like an amulet being held by a dragon's claw, but upon closer inspection, I realised that it was, in fact, a locket. There was a small, almost insignificant switch jutting about a millimetre from one of the dragon's nails, at first I thought it was a chip but as I pressed it inwards, there was a small click and the claw swung off the back of the amulet. Lodged inside was a tiny, perfectly fitting, empty glass bottle. "How much is this?" I asked,

"Oh that one I'll do for say, three pounds? It's an old little novelty,"

I paid her and she asked if I were going to wear it, I told her yes, and in the same breath she had stepped around and helped me affix it behind my neck. "It suits you," she nodded, before turning her attention to two other customers who had appeared.

Still buzzing with happiness at my new purchase, I made my way back to the pretzel stall and bought a large, fresh, warm pretzel, coated in cinnamon sugar. The pretzel man handed it to me in a white paper bag and I could feel the warmth radiating from it.

I handed over some coins and walked away from the fair, resisting temptation whilst I made my way to my favourite spot on the cliff overlooking the sea. I sat crossed-legged and took a bite of my still-warm pretzel and sighed with satisfaction. This was my favourite time of year, the end of summer: warm, but not too hot, sitting out in the dark after visiting the festival that I wait all year for just for the nostalgia and being able to consume warm, artery-clogging bliss whilst looking over the pathway to the moon.

I knew that out in the distance was my home, closer to land than one would expect, but invisible against the deep, navy sky. Very occasionally I would see a small glint that most people would assume is just the moon reflecting off the melancholy clouds but to the few who knew, it was a comforting reminder that the Island was still there in all its fortified majesty.

I took a deep breath of the air and felt the chill cool my lungs, I felt free as if I could fly if I wanted to. A gust of wind blew up across the front of my face, tossing my long, thick hair dramatically behind me and lifting the insides of my sleeves. As I awkwardly tried to pull the hair from my mouth using my pinkie finger as to avoid getting pretzel in my hair, I felt so normal. It was as if I were just another human being, learning how to enjoy the beauty of the night.

As I sat there alone, I pondered that futility of life and began to feel a little angry and resentful. I had spent a lot of my life; a lot longer that I had ever let on, feeling as if I had had everything taken away from me, it was still a sore point for me, but slowly, during my time at the island I had grown to realise that life will happen regardless of how you feel about it, and the only thing that you can truly control is your response.

Another gust of wind met my face and I laughed under my breath at my childish philosophy, talking as if I knew everything of the world. I finished my pretzel and stood up. I could feel the dampness from the ground on the seat of my trousers despite the fact that I had been sitting on my coat. . I began back towards the fair, but purposely walked around it, enjoying the feeling of aloneness and the sound of seemingly distant chatter, laughter and crackly music played over a large portable speaker.

Contrary to popular opinion on the Island, things didn't have to be perfect to be enjoyable, the fact that people were there and enjoying themselves is what really matters, not how grainy and rusty the music sounded, not how the unstable stalls were clipped together with multiple pegs, just the fact that no one was taking themselves too seriously.

As I made my way to the steep steps that led down to the beach I couldn't help but realise that actually it wasn't necessarily the nostalgia of the fair, or the food or the trinket stalls, but simply the fact that the people were, in that moment, just happy to be present and just happy to be alive. Not proud, not superior, just people out with their loved ones enjoying a late night summer fair. Thoughts like that were seldom spoken or thought at the Island, it made me a little sad, but at the same time I was pleased with myself, pleased that I was capable of thinking outside of the strict, proud oppression of the Island state of mind.