His Name…

10 Mar

I’ve had a lovely idea. we must all remember that even in this late day, creativity must be pushed to the final reaches of our imaginations. everything has been done. It is how we spin the tale that changes it. the tale never changes itself. we must be the ones to do it.

“You’re fired!” the words echo through natalia’s mind over and over again. She’d really messed up this time. Now, she was jobless, wandering her favorite beach at 2 o’clock in the morning. She couldnt even remember how she’d gotten there. Something primeavel had brought her to the only place she felt free.

“I guess its time to just let it go. No point in fussing over the past.” she muttered as she half heartedly kicked at the sand. “I’ll never be cut out for…” her words trailed in the wind and abruptly died as she stared off into the distance.

There, Natalia Pallenfort stood gawking as the body washed up onto the shore. If not for the full moon, she’d have never seen it. It was dead, or at least unconscious, lying face down in the darkened wet sand of the Pismo Beach shore. As she jogged over to the body, her mind reeled with the horrific thoughts of touching a dead body.

But what if he’s not dead? the little voice in her head whispered as she slowed to a halt. You could be killing him with your slow actions, Natalia.

She dropped to her knees in the wet sand, letting the cold saltwater soak into and stain her black slacks. She leaned forward and nudged the body with her finger. What she had confused for thick seaweed covering its’ back, was actually thick sopping wet black hair. it was long and wild, covering the body and the sand surrounding it. She dug her fingers into it, letting the roughened texture distract her for only a brief heartbeat as she tugged it this way and that, looking for a face.

“This’ll never do.” she muttered. “How in the hell am I supposed to find your pulse if I cannot even find your face?” Natalia sat back on her haunches, letting her toes curl into the wet sand. Earlier that night, in a fit of anger and frustration, she’d tossed her sensible black flats into the ocean. Only after screaming for a moment did her actions sink in. Now, she had no shoes. She was cold, wet, angry, shoeless and jobless. Now, to top it all off, she’d found a body. One with amazingly thick long black hair and no face. She’d found a dead Cousin It.

Natalia bunched her fingers into the slick, wet side of a leather jacket as she pushed the body, forcing it to roll over. Ah hah! I see a nose! She thought as she swept the hair back from the face. And oh, what a face it was! Sharp angular lines met at a strong chin and nose. It wasn’t an It! It was a him! His lips were full and slightly parted. His eyes were closed with thick eyebrows and thick featherlike eyelashes that seemed so soft, she struggled with herself to not touch.

Slipping her fingers under his chin, she did a little search for his pulse. Suddenly she felt it, thready and erratic, but the pulse was there, beating against her fingers. She leaned in close, searching to feel some breath from his lips. Nothing. His heart was beating, but he wasn’t breathing.

“Damnit!” She grunted as the very same temper that had gotten her fired engulfed her mind. She slammed her fist down onto his chest, not realizing what she was doing. “I should have taken those damned CPR classes when I had the chance!”

Natalia let out a high pitched yip of a scream as his fingers clamped down around her wrist and he coughed up sea water. He groaned and turned onto his side away from her as he coughed and spat, not once letting go of her wrist. She struggled with his grip, her frail little fingernails breaking as she dug at his grip. Her breathing became short and ragged as she panicked, frantically trying to get away. She’d fallen back onto her butt in the sand and was now kicking at him, like a wild animal.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” he croaked as she whimpered.

“Oh damn. I never pass out.” she whispered as her vision blackened and her head hit the sand.

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One Response to “His Name…”

  1. tmz_99 March 11, 2007 at 12:06 am #

    now it would be cool if he was a demon of some sorts, but with amnesia.. the marks on his back leading him to believe he was really an angel, but his true nature would revel itself to him and those around him as events unfolded.

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