Inspired by the sea...

Sitting on the beach at North Landing in Flanborough and felt inspired by the peaceful scene in front of me...  Hoppe you enjoy! :)

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She sat on the rocks, her toes causing ripples in the calm ocean as she dangled her feet into the cool water, staring silently out to sea.  Her long, damp, wavy blonde hair swayed in the light breeze that drifted lazily through the secluded cove.  The only noises that disturbed the silence were the calls of the seagulls circling high above the cliffs. 

 

I wriggled my toes in the warm sand where I sat taking in the beautiful view.  The tall white cliffs on either side of the cove standing proudly with their green hats on.  Rocks of all shapes and sizes were scattered at their base, the enticing dark openings in the cliff faces daring me to go and explore. 

I looked back to the girl.  She hadn't moved; she still sat perched on the edge of the rocks, watching the tide slowly ebb further out to sea.  I sat quietly and watched her as she watched nature at its most wonderful. 

 

Looking sideways at the rusty old lifeboat I began to wonder what it would have been like in it's glory days.  The day dream captured my attention for a while as I imagined the boat stood with others like it, the paint work bright and shiny instead of the flaky dull mess that it was now.  This one hadn't moved in years, it was almost sad. 

The call of a seagull brought me back to reality.  The sun shone high in the sky ad I figured I should move.  I had somewhere to be.  I glanced out to sea one last time.  She still sat there, one leg now drawn up under her chin, the other still disturbing what was left of the water this far in land.  I wondered what her story was as I began the assent back up the old lifeboat ramp.  What was she doing?  What was she waiting for? 

 

I guess I'd never know...  I looked back as I made it to the top and scanned the line of rocks where shed been.  There was no sign of her now.  I smiled to myself as I turned away, realising my mistake.

Late night scribblings...

I sat in the corner, my back against the bright white walls that stretched out on either side of me.  The strip lighting on the ceiling high above me flickered and buzzed in the near silence that had settled in the room and now pressed in around me.  A glare from the tiny amount of sunlight streaming in through the single window on the wall opposite me bounced off the fresh white paint that surrounded me completely and fuelled the headache building behind my eyes.  I began to wonder how long it would last this time, whether it could be medicated away like the last one or whether this was the one that would stick.  Closing my eyes I brought my knees up and rested my forehead against them.
With my eyes closed the voices began to break through my carefully constricted walls in my mind.  What had been whispers before grew louder the longer I kept my eyes squeezed closed, slowly becoming clearer, one voice distinguished from another.  At the sound of an all too familiar voice I snapped open my eyes, my breathing coming faster. 

A light knock at the door interrupted my thought process and I heard the heavy metal lock scrape out of place and the creak of the door as it brushed the fluffy white carpet as it opened.  She came in, shuffling about on the heavy pile in the carpet, her white shoes making barely any noise.  Heading straight for the bed she straightened the thin cotton sheets and plumped the feather pillow before shuffling in my direction.  I turned my head only slightly, watching her as she approached me.  Her tight white dress clung to her overly curvy figure a little too tightly for my liking and she held out a small plastic beaker to me.  Quickly becoming impatient she shook the cup, making the two pills in the bottom rattle.  She huffed, long since having given up trying to converse with me.  I held open one hand, raising it in the air till it was about level with her waist and watched as she tipped the contents onto my palm.  One, a tiny bright orange pill intended to stabilise my mood and the other, a long capsule, half blue and half yellow, intended to keep me calm and rational rolled around gently on my hand as she shuffled off to fetch a glass of water.

I swallowed the pills and opened my mouth to prove they had gone.  The nurse had only fallen for that trick twice; I'd hidden them under my tongue but had nowhere to dispose of them, so it hadn't taken her long to find out.  Now she made me show her that I had in fact swallowed them.
She left the room, taking all noise with her, the loud bang of the heavy padded door echoing chaotically through the room.  I dipped my head again, I had no reason to move.  Seven months I'd been here  Seven months and twelve days they'd had me locked in this hell hole of a room.  I'd trusted my mother with my secrets, told her that I could talk to my dead sister.  I gave her what she'd been searching for, the knowledge that her little girl was safe, and how did she repay me?  I gave her some closure after a horrible time in our lives, and she traded that information for four padded white walls and a lock on my door.  Twenty four hours a day I was monitored by the little camera in the corner.  They called me crazy; said I couldn't be trusted with my own life.  I didn't call her 'mum' anymore, she didn't deserve that name after putting me in here.  She'd tried to put it right for the first few months, begged y forgiveness, said it was in my best interests, that she cared about me and wanted me to get better.  Get better?  Like I was ill, like I could be fixed.  For years I'd thought like that, for years I'd hoped it was something that was wrong with me and that it could be treated and it would go away.  Eventually I had grown to realise that I couldn't be fixed, that it wasn't going away.  From there it took a further three years to fully accept what was happening to me and how to use it to my advantage.  I was nearly nineteen now and I still hadn't mastered my gifts, or my curse depending on who you asked about my 'talents'. 

I'd finally accepted them last year after they had let me talk to my sister, let me know that she was ok and that she was at peace and when they'd given me access to a world that could foretell tragedy.  If I could use that information to cheat death, was it such a curse?  Or was it a way to stop my family from having to go through any more pain?
I had to get out of here.  I could help people.  I didn't belong cooped up in here I wasn't crazy.  Proving that whilst locked in a cell at the Institute for the Mentally Unstable wasn't going to be easy though...  But I had to do it, if not for me for my twin sister.  I owed her that much.  I would be free, for Anna-Marie, and for me! 

Tall, Dark and Dangerous

He commanded attention the minute he entered the spacious underground room.  Everyone seemed to stare; myself included!  The dim disco lights and flashing strobe lighting illuminated his broad figure as he glided across the dance floor towards the bar.  I shrunk back into my stool, letting the shadowy corner conceal my face.  As he approached the bar a stray light passed over him, revealing a handsome face and a body to die for.  His coffee coloured skin and dark black hair gave him a Latino look that made me glad I was sitting down, for my knees went weak.  His dark eyes looked cool and mysterious as he placed his hands flat on the bar and leant in to speak to the short red head behind the bar.  Her body language and girlish manner told me that he was flirting with her; and she was loving it.  She scuttled away an returned minutes later with his drink and a black serviette to place it on.  From here the neat liquor in the short round tumbler looked like Brandy, but could just have easily been a rich Whiskey.  The bar had plenty of choice after all. 

I looked again at the mysterious new stranger.  I knew most people that entered the club, ninety-five per cent of the crowds that passed through the doors each night were regulars, choosing to spend their nights in the swanky underground rock club rather than crawl the streets looking for decent bars with decent music.  The range of customers ranged from teenagers just legal to drink and young adults looking for a good time, to business men and women looking for somewhere to let their hair down after a long and hard week at the office.  All were taken care of by the staff here, who went out of their way to make the clubbers happy and had a good night.  There was staff presence everywhere, even on the dance floor most nights, and the punters loved it. 

The other five per cent were the one timers that quickly decided the club wasn't to their taste.  There were rarely out of towners came in...  So why did I not know who this gorgeous stranger was less than five feet away from me.  I took in his attire, a plain business suit that looked black in this light, but could just as easily be navy blue.  His white shirt and tie to match the jacket were wrinkle free and he looked calm and stress free.  Not like he had just finished a week at work and come to blow off some steam on a late June Friday night.  Everyone in here had been hot and sticky before they hit the dance floor; the unusually muggy weather outside being a thorn in everyone's side after too many weeks without rain.  This guy however was as cool and calm as if he'd just walked out of the freezer, though that smouldering look on his face as he watched the movement out on the floor was enough to defrost anyone. 

I followed his gaze and saw one of the girls out on the floor.  She danced with two men dressed in similar suits to tall, dark and dangerous over here, but they looked like I expected after a long day at the office; bedraggled and ready for the weekend.  Nikki, the brunette in the sexy staff uniform moved to the music, letting the men dance with her, their hands on her waist and shoulders.  To many it would look like she couldn't handle them, but to someone who knew her she had them right where she wanted; at arms length.  Figuratively speaking of course.  She would gently and surreptitiously slide their hands back to safe spaces when they began to wander from their current positions, and would conveniently sway to the music if they got too close.  Some would call her a 'cock-tease', I call it good technique.  I should know.  I taught it to her. 

I decided I needed to know who the stranger was.  I slid from my red velvet bar stool at the shadowy end of the bar and made my way towards the tall, broad man still trying to chat up the bar staff.  I cleared my throat and he turned around, dazzling me with the full force of his beauty.
"Hi, It's very nice to meet you, I'm the club owner, my name is Nel.  What brings you to The Basement?"

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So there we go, had this swimming about my head for a few days now and wasn't sure what to make of it...  I'm not sure who he is or what his agenda is, it was just the scene in my head that I could see.  Any ideas?  Who is he?  What is he doing at The Basement? 

Let me know your ideas please!