I stared at the blank screen, as I have had writer's block for a month now. No matter how hard I pushed my imagination, it just wasn't enough. Had I ran out of my own thoughts? That's all my tales really were, a world I wished to be a part of. One who accepted me, as I vision myself. A flawless world of wonder; and innocence, a world inside a world. Writing was my only outlet to escape the loneliness I endured.
I do admit the view was spectacular, and it was all mine. Every morning I rise with the sun, as it illuminates the white sands that surround the Island. Sparkling like bright white blankets diamonds. The water is the most inviting shade of cobalt, my eyes get lost in the waves.
At first the nights were a little rough to overcome, but I have explored the whole island now. There are no dangers, and this island doesn't exist on any map. The nights are actually calming, and after a while the silence becomes meditating. Anything is more peaceful than the noisy nights lived out in New York city.
I had everything I needed right here, including internet. I was able to listen to music, download movies, and even place my order for the islander. I avoided the news at all costs.
Another upside of having money, I had my own personal generator to provide electricity. So I have all the amenities such as a refrigerator, washer, dryer, lamps and even a dishwasher.
My publisher has no clue what I look or sound like. She only receives my manuscripts via email, which is route through an intractable account. She deposits my earnings in a private account in my alias same Jenna Brewster. Don't ask how I cam up with it, I kind of grabbed it from the air.
Anyone would be crazy not to live here, it would just be nice to have company. I often dream of my knight in shinning armor sweeping me away in a sailboat with my name inscribed along side the hull. "Lola" it would read, in thin; gold italic letters.
I vision him tall, tanned skin, sandy blonde hair, and eyes greener than emeralds. His kiss as sweet as peach ice tea, and his skin soft as silk.
I find him in my dreams often, as if I already know him. I call him Adam, though he is the one story I have no written. It seems to precious to put on paper, because it's my only secret.
In some dreams we dance under the moonlit sky at the water's edge , and the waves flow over our bare feet. I can hear "A thousand years" by the Piano guys in the background as we twirl.
In other dreams we swim nude in the azure waters, and the warm breeze brings goose bumps to my skin as his fingers stoke my shoulders sigh as the visions disappear, and I take a lounge chair on the pier.
The islander should be arriving anytime, I confirmed my order on line. Seraph Isle was twelve hours from any sign of life. It sounds dangerous, but who would miss me if I were gone anyway.
Reyna no longer exists in my world, and I am sure she has long forgotten me. She took her half of the inheritance and vanished. We were not identical twins, so she wouldn't get hassled about the events that took place on August 28, 2001.
Unlike her I had long curly raven hair, and eyes the lightest shade of blue they almost looked gray. My skin had tanned since residing on the island, not that there was anyone to admire it. My height was average, I stood at five-seven. My body frame was made up of a small waist, curvy hips, and an average size chest. I spent most of my days half nude, there would be nobody to intrude onto my privacy.
I could see the islanders ship surfacing in the distance, and along with him a storm brewing. It did rain a great deal, but also one of the things I admired.
The islander was a kind older man in his 50's, and he was sworn to secrecy of my location. He still appeared to be in good shape, but I often ask myself who will suffice in his absence. His wife was never able to bare children, and they had no family to speak of. I suppose it's a good question to consider asking him, once weakness presents in him.
He was in eyes view as I waived to him, and as always he waived back. He finally made his way to the pier and docked.
"Good day Miss," he called.
"Hello Oscar," I returned." Appears a storm has followed you in."
"Yes, they say it's going to be colossal. I hope you will be alright," he smiles.
"Always am," I called behind me as we unloaded the boxes.
After everything was unloaded Oscar boarded his boat, I never allowed him to accompany me to the house. We said our good-byes just as the sky began to cry, and the lightning shimmered the evening horizon.
I hurried with the boxes, I had ordered some more computer supplies that were not water proof. The thunder cracked as I set down the last box on the kitchen counter.
As I mentioned, I love the rain. Even as a girl I remember peaking out the high rise apartment in the city. I would sneak to the roof as often as possible. There was something so cleansing about rain, as if it washed away everything to start anew.
I try to to dig up memories from that life, but once in a while they louse through the brick wall that replaces my heart. I miss my father so much, and I know deep down in my soul he is looking over me. In his last days it was his wish, well really his demand that I promise to find happiness even in the storm. I looked out into the faint; scarlet sunset as the last trace of light faded.
The sadness of his absence was overwhelming, and I felt the tears spill from my eyes.
I quickly wiped them, as I had to prepare for the storm. Living in a glass house meant being cautious. I had a layer of steel doors built in, so I could lower them if I needed to shelter myself. I had to get them down, in case the generator blew. It would take me a day to fix. If the storm was really going to be monstrous, Then I would be stranded inside until it let up.
After I finished, I turned on my piano music and fluttered onto the bed. I watched the rain pounce of the one sky light window left uncovered. I closed my eyes, is hopes I would meet with my prince inside my dream again.