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• Amalia Stankavage, Grade 12, Schalmont High School
• Short Story
• 2001

2nd in the '2001/2002 Schools Short Story Competition - Magic and Mystery Theme' competition

She sat along the shore, the waves hissing softly at her as they rolled in and out, the water just barely lapping at her toes.
"John..." She whispered softly, calling to him, pleading for him. The ocean echoed her, Seagulls repeating the name over and over to each other, passing it along. Hellia closed her eyes and silently called to him again, reaching out with her senses.
Halfway across the continent, a man sat alone in his car, hand thumping out the beat to the loud music playing on his stereo as he waited at a stoplight. He sang along under his breath, almost chanting the words, "...spoil my devotion..." A seagull blinked into existence as the light turned green. He didn't notice, just put his foot on the gas, "...with your lies..." The bird kept pace.
Finally he pulled into his driveway. He got out of the car and headed towards the house, still singing. The gull squawked his name "Jo-ahn!" and dived, swooping back up at the last moment. John ducked, shouting in bemusement at the bird, so far out of its element, in the American Midwest.
The bird circled slowly and landed on the porch railing. John approached with caution.
Deeply tranced, Hellia envisioned the bird, made it dive and squawk, and saw his reaction. Slowly, as though melting, the bird began to change in her mind's eye. It grew, spreading its wings, which even then became arms, and swung slowly forming legs over the rail. The girl sat comfortably where the bird had previously perched. Green eyes stared calmly into frightened crystal blue. Hellia brushed the sand off her hands and crossed her legs. "Hello, John."
"Hello, 'Liia...I should've guessed. How-?" The man stood in amazement, not daring to take his eyes off the young woman before him.
"Magic," she replied, cutting him off. She hopped off the railing casually, as if she had been sitting there, waiting, all afternoon.
"I came to see if you were ready." He blinked, tilting his head at her.
"Ready? What for?"
"For me... Apparently, you're not."
"I'm confused..." He began.
"And I'm flighty," she finished. He flinched, feeling as though a dagger had just been thrust into his heart. It wasn't sorcery, like her arrival, but words he felt just as keenly as any wizardry. He exhaled slowly, looking down at her, where she stood before him, defiant and confident. Now he understood.
"Are you ready, now?" She asked. John nodded slowly. "I'm ready...I'm sorry, 'Liia."
A faint smile passed across her features, lightening her eyes, making them sparkle happily. That was magic too. She took his hand, and he held it tightly, unwilling to let go and lose again. He blinked, and she was gone. Suddenly, he knew where she was. He felt the ocean's breeze against his cheek and envisioned her, sitting on the shore, watching the sun set slowly, turning the water to fire, the barest wave gently lapping against her toes, no longer alone.