Who: Mal and Open When: Saturday afternoon Where: Crescent Beach What: Watching the seasons change Rating: It's Mal, so who knows? Don't be scared though. Go on and reply.
Many people on the Isle of Frye would go to their graves swearing up and down that Mallorie Swafford was a bitch. It was common for people to believe that she had no heart, that she was the stereotypical Grinch Who Stole Christmas from the good people of Whoville. From the way she acted toward most people, it actually made sense that they would think this. No one could ever even imagine the sort of horrors that constantly filled Mal's mind. Being privy to the dreams of all those who resided in Frye wasn't always sunshine and good, unrealistic sex. There were nightmares too.
Usually, Mal didn't understand what was happening when she entered someone's nightmare. It wasn't calm or heavy with excitement. The images were vivid, dashing from one thing to the next, hurried, frightened, dark. And if a person's own dreams were difficult to understand, imagine what it would end up doing to Mal. Perhaps she deserved this sort of torture. Perhaps it was the universe's way of getting revenge for all the terrible acts she had committed throughout her life. Perhaps it was sweet justice delivered in the manner that would affect her the most. Or perhaps this was just a scared little girl who could never really wake up from her nightmares.
She wasn't sure what the appeal of Crescent Beach was. It was calm and nice. The sand was soft, and the autumn colors were quietly decorating the sky out toward the horizon. It was cute. Nothing more. Mal dragged her feet through the sand, walking no faster than a snail with a broke tail. The wind kicked up her hair occasionally, and she would have to constantly be brushing it behind her ears with her fingertips. Her eyes never left the ground in front of her. Guilt was a terrible weight to carry on your shoulders. Mal's guilt felt like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Atlas had nothing on her.
So what exactly was she looking for here at Crescent Beach? Tranquility? Inner peace? Her brother who only worked here during the summers? Redemption? Mal didn't know. She only felt like the only way she would find out was if she just kept on walking down the beach, forever if she had to.