One Californian's Summer

~*Sunrise

Hasn't anyone seen the sunrise?

I smiled. I wasn't sure that anyone I knew had ever seen the sunrise. I didn't think so. We were all too young to even stay up so long past midnight. By we, I meant all my friends, except me. Granted, I was no older than they were, but I was going to see the sunrise. Tonight, as I was standing here, I was waiting for the dark to pass, waiting for the first rays of the sun to stretch across the sky and lighten the day.

The waves of the ocean crashed against the cliff far below my bare feet. My lips parted, taking in the salty air that rose from the ocean. Yes it was cold, but not cold enough for me to care. It could have been colder, in the winter. But it was summer now, and much warmer than it would have been up north. I lived in Southern California somewhere, and it was because I lived in the west that I was on a cliff; I had to find some place high, so that I could look over the trees surrounding so that I could get a first look at the sunrise.

Just a few more minutes. It wasn't long now.

A suppressed yawn finally escaped the boundaries of my mouth, making me shut my eyes for a brief moment before the yawn subsided. When it had, and my mouth finally closed, I opened my eyes and saw through the cloudiness that came after the yawn; I was disappointed to see that the light had reached across the sky without my knowing it. It was there, like a child had stuck a sticker there in the sky. My eyes narrowed and a pout found it could push my lips out in a sour pucker. It made me unhappy that I couldn't see the first millimeter of sunlight, and now there was a centimeter right before my tired, cloudy eyes.

This cannot be happening.

I groaned, rolling my eyes to stomp my foot on the ground. This was not what I was after. But...As I watched, I couldn't help but admit that the orange that tangled so delicately around the midnight blue of the dark night sky was faintly beautiful. The orange would take just a little tiny strand of the blue, just barely thicker than a hair, and change it to the white-blue of the coming day. It was like...almost like...being underwater with your eyes open, except...everything was so much clearer than it should have been.

I had come for what I wanted to see. Well, part of it. Beautiful as it was, my real purpose had been interrupted with a yawn. At this I--

Screamed?

When I had let the breath escape from my lungs and through my mouth as a dejected sigh, a screamed had shattered its why through the silence to my ears. It wasn't far away, so it had to be on the beach somewhere.

Against my better judgment--to run away and not look back--I ran down the hill from the cliff, winding my way around some trees until I came upon the beach where I stopped, turning my head to search, but I found nothing in my sight.

There was another scream, but muffled, and it sounded like crying.

My heart pounded painfully in my head as my breath seemed to stop short. I was scared, but I wasn't scared enough to flee. My feet took off running in the direction of the scream despite the dizziness I felt from the lack of air. When I turned around the rock formation, I stopped, blood catching my line of sight. I stopped dead, and stared.

This scent...The scent of the blood I recognized. Someone I knew, someone I cared for...

Miranda...

But there was no body to confirm the sent of the blood splattered against the dirty-white sand of the beach. In fact, there was nobody there at all. There was evidence of the struggle, I could see the heels of Miranda having dug deep into the sand to stop--or at least slow--the progress of her attacker; the foot prints on either side of the dragged line showing she was being pulled backwards through the sand. The blood showed the line where Miranda had stopped struggling and was simply dragged off with no trouble.

I swallowed. I had told her where I was going to be. Why was she awake at this time? She should have been asleep, like all the rest of the people here in California. In fact, I should have been asleep...

I hissed, snorting the sent of Miranda's blood out from my nostrils. I shouldn't have told her where I had been. And now--

A scream of agony broke through my pursed lips as a cold blade entered the side of my shoulder. I grabbed my shoulder out of reflex, but the blade came out just then, cutting my fingers in the process. I turned to face my attacker, a tall, darkly shadowed man with a mask on. But the mask didn't matter, I could still see the features of his face clearly, but I couldn't recognize who it was. He took to another stab, which I quickly grabbed with my left hand, with the cut fingers. My right arm was limp and useless, for the time being until I can get to the hospital. Right now, my mind was raging, on fire, with pure hate for this man who had attack my friend.

With force, he dragged the knife down through my hand, but I didn't let the blade go. With a slight smirk, I slide to the side, closer to him, and bit his wrist. A yelp of pain, and the knife was free from his hand. I spun, stabbing him in his gut. Surprisingly, it didn't take him down as fast as I expected that to. His gut was thick with fat. I took a stab to his chest.

A bang rang out, and suddenly I was frozen, a warm ooze dripping down the side of my face. I felt my eyes widen in fear also as another bang rang out, ripping through my side.

I had only misdirected the shot, as he misdirected my attack. I had his knife in his gunned arm, I having ripped it to the left, where the bullet had dug into my side. I was still standing, which seemed to intimidate the man, because he ran off like a scared little puppy dog with his tail between his legs. I grinned, but frowned to see him running off with the body of Miranda slung over his shoulder. A whimper burned on its way out of my nose, watching him go like that with my best friend. He stumbled, obviously in pain from my stabs, but he still went on.

I, on the other hand, fell to the ground, weak from a sleepless night, and the shots and stabs from the man. I needed a rest...