Destiny Ever-Changing by Tasha Ivey Read Free Book Online

engaged, of course.
    I proceed back out into the water, determined to forget my troubles. This time, I simply swim against the waves, trying to wear myself out completely and alleviate some of this stress. I stop swimming once I have made it out considerably far, and I allow the waves to carry me back to the sand again. I continue to go out again and again, until I can hardly swim any more. I make my way up to the shore for the final time, and I sit at the water's edge for a few minutes and catch my breath.
    Once my arms and legs no longer feel like noodles, I trudge back up and take a seat on the bottom of the stairs, reaching underneath to grab a bottle. I twist off the top and guzzle it, a little too quickly, and I treat the next few in the same manner. I decide that I should probably take it easy, or I just might be waking up on these steps with a hangover in the morning, since I seldom drink. I grab another, but this time I drink it much more leisurely, appreciating the intensely relaxing effect washing over me. Leaning back onto the steps, I try to unwind and admire the alluring waterscape as it transforms before my eyes.
    Sunsets here are like no others I have ever witnessed. The sky is turning so many assorted shades of orange, pink, purple, and the most brilliant shades of red I've ever seen. All of those colors are shimmering off the crystal, blue water, which contrasts with the sugary, white sand. There are no words to express how breathtaking it is.
    I'm watching the sun turn a deep shade of crimson as it melts into the horizon, radiating its luminosity onto the clouds, water, and sand. This is the best time of day to be out on the beach, and it's apparent that I'm not the only one that feels that way. I observe a couple taking a sunset stroll, and that teenage girl is coming back from her walk. A combination of the day's events, too many beers, the darkening sky, and the hypnotic sound of the gentle waves are all making me feel so tranquil that I could easy sleep right here on these stairs. I close my eyes for a few minutes to enjoy the sounds and smells of the ocean, and I soon realize that I'm going to have to head back up toward the house before I doze off. I try to open my eyes, but they are fiercely resisting.
    "So we meet again," Laura says, startling me from my almost slumber.
    I must be dreaming.
     

Chapter Five — The Journal
     
    Laura:
    It's obvious that Nana doesn't want to talk more about it right now, so I decide to let the issue with the man in the locket drop for now. When we finish our talk, she goes outside to work in her beloved flowerbeds. She is glad that we had a little rain shower right after I arrived, so the watering is already done for her.
    I try to read a book, but I can't focus; I keep reading the same page repeatedly. I, then, try to watch television, but there's nothing on that even remotely interests me. I call Fawn to let her know where I will be staying for a few days, in case she attempts to call me. The last thing I need is for her to call my aunt and uncle to look for me. I don't want them to know anything is amiss until I go back home.
    I don't know what else to do, so I go out, sit in the swing on the back porch, and watch the rain clouds roll out. It appears the evening will be clear and beautiful. I can see the shimmering ocean from here, and I would love to go for a walk on the beach. Nana said she would be starting dinner soon, so I'll wait until after we eat. Maybe she'll even join me. When I would visit her as a young girl, we would go down to the beach every evening.
    "Oh, there you are, Laura!" Nana steps out the creaky back door. "I thought you were reading."
    "No, I just couldn't concentrate on anything, so I came out here where my wandering mind can go where it pleases."
    "Ah, I see," she says. "I'm going to go in and get myself cleaned up, and we can start dinner. How does fried chicken sound?"
    I lick my lips.
    "Fried chicken, it is!" Nana exclaims as she