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The Diamond Fist: Prologue

Blues · 2011-08-04T23:15:38Z

Hi All! This is the prologue for The Diamond Fist, a tale set in post-revolution Egypt in 2011. It's about the mess that the ex-president creates in order to regain power, and how group of foreign teenagers get caught up in it. Enjoy! Prologue Liam I f you could give a piece of advice to an unborn kid about life, what would it be? “Concentrate at school”? “Mum and Dad always know best”? “Take life easy?” If it was me, it would be “think before you speak”. No, forget that. It’d be “keep your trap shut at all times”. No, not even that. “Super glue your mouth at first opportunity”. Or at least, that’s what I’d have said to myself. Because, if it weren’t for me, all those people wouldn’t have disappeared. They wouldn’t have gotten–oh God, I can’t even bring myself to say it. It all started on February 12th. I’m usually not good with remembering dates, but this one has to have been burnt into my mind by my history teacher. It was the day after that dodgy Egyptian President was kicked out–Mustafar Ehap or whatever it was. I’m as bad with names as I am with dates. I wish I could get it out of my head. It was supposed to be a good day. I mean, I had a diving competition and I went through to the regional round. Me and a few others would be representing Sharm El Sheikh in a few weeks time. It all started in the changing rooms after that round was over. Everyone was either singing in their cubicles, others chanting, “We got through, we got through!” or “Sharm El Sheikh! Sharm El Sheikh!” Then Damien Thomas, who’s probably the best at diving out of all of us, called, “Who’s up for a party?” Everyone shouted back in agreement, me included. After all, it was something to celebrate. I could already picture myself at the very end of the competition with a gold medal around neck and taking photos with people. “Where shall we have it?” said Lukas. As I walked out of my cubicle I, jokingly, replied back, “On the cliff!” “That’s a great idea!” And that’s where it all started. *** We arrived at the cliff, passing the café there as we neared the tip, where there was a dense cluster of tall palm trees with lush green leaves, which served as a sort of barrier to the tip of the cliff, which was a reddish-brown colour and rather crumbly. If you weren’t careful, you could easily slip. I tried to stay well away from the edge, but that became harder and harder as the cliff narrowed as we neared the tip. I tried to block out the sound of waves crashing into the beach and fizzing as it pulled back or not to look down at the sea, but when I did, I backed farther away from the edge. I could see it: the dark, sinister depths of the sea. It was as if it was a giant monster, just waiting for me to step foot into its mouth at which point it would bolt shut, trapping me forever. We arrived as far as we could go without going through the cluster of palm trees. It was like we rehearsed it all: phones out, music at maximum volume and party. Half an hour later, one of the girls suggested we played a game called “Truth or Dare”. A few minutes later, we all laughed at the expression on Lukas’ face after he was dared to eat a chip with a ton of salt, mustard, vinegar and anything foul on it. We span the water bottle which pointed at me, meaning it was my turn to pick a dare for someone. My mind was blank about what you could do on the top of a cliff. “Er... Um... Go and jump off the cliff? I don’t know–” “You’ve been dared,” one of the girls said, “Go and do it.” “I’ll do it if someone else comes with me,” replied Damien, who I had dared. Instantly, most people shot their hands up. I instantly regretted it. They lined up, preparing to jump. “Guys,” I said. “I don’t think this is a good idea...” “I bet you none of them has the guts to do it. Good one, Liam,” replied the same girl who told them to do the dare. “Yes we do!” replied Damien, turning around. “We’ll dive off this cliff and then we’ll see.” Dive off the cliff? In the dark? I remembered my best friend James telling me once before that shark attacks were more common in the dark. He told me that after a series of such attacks two months before. I slid through the cluster of palm trees and grabbed onto one, where I could see them dive clearly and without being worried of falling. “This is really not a good idea–” It was crazy of them anyway. We only ever dived from a ten metre platform and there was a lifeguard there, in case you were about to drown... and this was a cliff nearly double that. Drowning used to freak me out. In fact, the only reason I went diving was because Mum wanted me to stop being scared of water. On our holidays to Spain, I acted as if there was a restraining order for me from the sea. When we arrived in Sharm El Sheikh, Mum made me join a diving club to help me overcome my fear of water. The coach there used to tell me to imagine that I was looking down at clouds and when I jumped into them, they could cushion my fall. “You can’t drown in water vapour now, can you?” I remember him saying. I guess her plan for me to overcome my fear of water kind of worked but it still lingered somewhere. I used to shiver just imagining a cold, dark death while struggling to breath. I even used to think you’d bleed from drowning. Wisps of blood twisting, twirling, dancing like smoke. “Three... two... one... jump!” They dived into the murky depths of the sea. In the morning it was clear, calm and tranquil, the dazzling water warm, a bit like a Jacuzzi but in the night–I shuddered at the thought. A string of loud gasps for air pierced the silence, followed by a loud round of applause. “No point clapping if you aren’t gonna do it!” called up Lukas. Lukas Werner, jumping off a cliff? There can’t be that many 10 year old adrenaline junkies. Especially him, he was the youngest out of all of us. How the heck were they going to get back up? “Oi, you guys, let’s climb up. Let’s get into this cave bit first.” The water splashed as they climbed out of the water. “Whoa,” Damien Thomas yelled. “Look at this!” ...and then they were gone. Five minutes later, I wondered aloud where they were, but there was no reply. Another five minutes later, I asked whether we should go looking for them, but no one else dared to break the silence, but by then it was pretty obvious what happened. They had disappeared. And the worst thing about it? Nothing would’ve happened if I had kept my mouth shut. All because of me. As usual. Next chapter here

HHemayed

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Points 573

Reviews 39

Mon Jan 23, 2012 5:30 pm

HHemayed says... · Mon Jan 23, 2012 5:30 pm

Hi!This is excellent!
I think it's a bit long, but I'm no expert.

I didn't notice anything wrong or mysterious, but there's one thing:
(around neck)
I think you ought to say: (around my neck)

Good luck with everything. Keep writing.

To be alive is not to breathe, eat or drink. It's your ability to prove your existence.

Quote

rule #1 of being a potato: potatoes gotta defend their friends from negative self-talk
— Spearmint

The Diamond Fist: Prologue

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