Young Writers Society

A deep blue hue with tinges of crimson clouded June’s vision. Images of pine trees and sand flashed before her as she felt herself falling, falling, falling. She looked down and met with darkness. There was no ground to slump upon. A constant sickening feeling of falling plagued June as she continued to plunge into the depths of her pitch-black surroundings.

June woke with a start and jackknifed herself to a sitting position on her bed. She inhaled in and out, trying to regulate her breathing. She convulsed as if she was choking. June vaulted out of her bed and made it to her jointed bathroom in record time. Hunched over the marble countertop, water dribbled out of her mouth and splattered onto the smooth surface. The unwelcome, albeit familiar feeling of bile raised in her throat, but instead of spilling the contents of her stomach, she coughed harshly as more water spewed out. She brought her chin up as she wiped at it with the back of her hand, then proceeded to towel the dampness on her pajama-clad leg. Looking in the mirror, June noticed the dark bags under her eyes, giving off a sunken appearance on her face. No more Netflix before bed, it’s a trap.

A hard knock startled her out of her conclusion.

“You’re going to want to eat before we leave unless you’re going for the sluggish approach.” The voice on the opposite side of her bedroom door paused. June mused he’d already begun his oh so hilarious comedic routine. Too early, definitely too early. The sun was struggling to shine through the mass of clouds riding low that morning. The fog was in the forecast for this morning; strikingly aesthetic, but slightly unnerving if you’re hiking, pair that with superstition along with a streak of bad luck, and you are ready for a horror show.

“You’re getting funnier every day, Dad. I’ll be down in a minute.” June answered back with matching enthusiasm.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me, I still need my hiking buddy.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and lifted her focus back to the mirror. June tugged open the drawer located to the right, underneath the counter, and took out her hairbrush. Her hair flowed silky down to the middle of her back. June took a portion of her black hair and swept through it once with her fingers and then twice with the bristles of the brush. She continued the same treatment for the remainder of her hair before she pulled the long locks of obsidian into a tight bun with an elastic to keep it in place. June stuffed the brush back into the drawer and reached for her toothbrush. She brushed for a solid two minutes before spitting. Satisfied with her appearance, she smiled to herself in her reflection and walked out of the washroom.

June circuited back to her bed and grasped at the black bag which lay underneath the foot of the bed. She gently tossed the backpack on the linen and unzipped the lengthy zipper from left to the right. Inside revealed a Canon EOS 6D II, a gift presented to her by an Aunt from the US. The summer break was nearing its end and she’d yet to complete her landscape portfolio for college. June needed to have a minimum of 20 rural and 20 urban pictures taken for that fall’s submission.

June turned to her dresser, which lined the wall by her door, pulled open a drawer, and fussed with the contents until she found her objective. After tugging off the flannel of her pajamas, June wrestled with the fabric of her worn-looking red cashmere sweater and cargo joggers. After successfully dressing, she hung the expensive camera from her neck, with a delicacy she certainly hadn’t shown with her clothing and left the room. June made her way down the hallway in a lethargic gait and stopped at the beginning of the steep stairway. She grasped at the railing as images of a tilting boat on a mass area of deep blue waves clouded her vision. She hadn’t realized she’d taken a step before her foot skidded down a few steps, knocking the girl on her bottom with one leg lodged under her and one leg resting three steps ahead.

“You alright sweetheart?” A woman called from the main floor.

“Yeah, just missed a step. I’m good.” June replied, breathlessly. Using the railing as a crutch, June hoisted herself up and continued. Below the stairs led into the entrance, to the right, the living room, where she was met with her father lounging on the couch with sock-clad feet on the coffee table.

“Should I invest in non-slip socks for you, darling?” The man chortled at his one-liner while rubbing the side of his feet together, scratching an unknown itch. June huffed out a small laugh, he’s on a roll this morning; must be in a hell of a good mood.

“Budge up.” She settled herself on the vacant cushion beside him and sunk into the soft padding of the backrest. Her mother had placed it gingerly on the glass coffee table in front of her, repeating the action for her father. June let go of the imagery set by her dreams in favor of the dark liquid inhabiting a ceramic mug.

“Thank you, dear.” Conan sipped his tea with caution; burning your taste buds is never a pleasant feeling. “Good thing you called bagsy this morning before this youngin got to it. She never takes out the bag. It’s a doddle, Junebug.” He tossed her a playfully snide side-eye. Conan took his legs off the table and bent over to place his drink down.

“I forgot once!” She expressed exasperation through a light punch to her father’s shoulder as her mother, Mary, smiled fondly at the pair and their banter. They finished their tea in comfortable silence before raising themselves from the amenity that sinking into the couch in the early morning provided. Mary reached over the table to collect the glasses as they were put down. June stood to move but vaulted forward as her shin swung into the low ridden table ever so gracefully. She inhaled so harshly, you would swear there’d been a cat hissing nearby. Unsuccessfully suppressing a snort at his daughter’s unawareness, he turned and placed a light, but firm hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, careful; there’s a table there.” Conan held a teasing glint in his eye as he prodded at his daughter’s patience once again. June huffed out a short laugh disguised as an exhalation and shook her head. Mary shot a look which was probably intended as disapproval, towards her husband, but somehow, along the way turned into amusement.

“I’ll remember that.” June responded mirthfully as she continued past her father and to the front door. Taking turns, the duo slipped on their boots and tied them off with double knots. Mary met them at the threshold and slung her petite frame across her family’s shoulders, giving them an impressive squeeze, considering her size.

“Mind yourselves, especially you, being clumsy and all, it would be a terrible thing to keep it homey here without you.” She kissed the tops of their heads, aiming another one of her looks at June, and turned the handle for them. The dyad bid their goodbyes for the day and started down the street. The plan was to get a few pictures at the beach before beginning their hike. The forest starts at the beach and ends on the other side of town with multiple trails crossing through each other.

They reached the beach within a few minutes, merely being a street down from their home. Conan perched himself on a decently sized rock he’d noticed off to the edge of the forest line near the boat dock.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“I just need to get a couple of shots here” June assured as she brought the camera to her face and snapped at the foggy horizon. She walked to the other side of the beach and crouched for a good angle. Near the shoreline, where the water just barely dampened the trees, an area of water began to ripple. At first, just a circle, but a figure began to protrude from the sea and surge forward, causing water to rapidly spring off its person. June froze in place as the sodden creature approached her at an alarming pace. It pounced on her and she blared out a shriek of terror.

“June!” Conan raced to his daughter and stopped a few meters short of the creature as it rose and attacked him on sight. Conan was strong, but this crazy brute gained hold of him and showed no mercy. His face flooded with panic when he realized he couldn't gain sovereignty. June lay sprawled out on the sand with her left arm clutching her right shoulder. From between her fingers, blood percolated heavily and dribbles of it collected at the crook of her elbow. June heaved herself to stagger with as much speed as she could muster to reach her dad. She glanced for anything that could be applied in defense and settled on a jagged rock nearby. June stumbled her way over to grab it and upon doing so, hurled it at the attacker. The aggressor took the bait and lurched in her direction. She swung her fist back and when it made an impact, her entire wrist had perforated through the center of its forehead stopping the creature in its tracks. The being stumbled backward a couple of steps before a small mound of sand sent it plunging into the pale dust.

June moved forward in the direction of her father, her hand still pressed in a lethal grip on her blood-soaked shoulder. She extended her hand to her father’s to hoist him back on his feet. Once he was stable, his face contorted with concern as he eyed the damage done to June’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Conan frantically gripped at the sleeve of his flannel and tore a long strip from the seam of the shoulder to the hem. He moved to lift her arm, wrapping the fabric around the open wound and confining it tightly to stop the blood flow. Her eyes drooped, soon sealed, as her mind fell unconscious and she fell forward. Conan caught her before she could hit the ground and held her up by her upper arms, taking extra caution not to distress the shoulder further. Overwrought with horror, he set June down gently in the sand. Conan searched around for any passerby, but with no luck.

“Help!” He called out to no avail. No one was outside let alone near the beach. The man glanced down at his daughter but she no longer lay before him. She’d left an imprint in the sand but there were no signs of steps or movement, just dented sand. If he was worried before, he didn't know what he felt then.

In less than a millisecond, he was met with a face full of grains, not the healthy kind. Something mounted his back and all thought disappeared from his mind. Crimson flooded his vision in streaks and a torrid blinding pain turned his vision white.

June had bit down on his collar bone and severed through the already torn material and the skin underneath. Blood spewed out in all directions due to a blood vessel bursting from the pressure of the bite. June sat back and unfolded her legs so that she was sitting next to Conan with her legs stretching in the space in front of her. Bending down once more, she bit off another chunk of skin. Her face became ridden with blood reaching as far as her cheekbones. Her father lay motionless beside her, his eyes were frozen in terror. June’s newly soulless eyes trailed the shore and landed on a man tending to his boat. She’d found her next victim.