SEVENTEEN
Bitter Sweet Sixteen
The weeks leading up to Cordelia’s birthday flew by. Cordelia had kept herself busy with her studies and diving practise, visiting the tavern every other evening. Amongst other things, this helped to keep potential gossip at bay. It was one thing for Cordelia to be living elsewhere while Flynn was missing but now that he was back as a solid fixture in the community, people might question where she was. Living in such a town meant nobody’s business was their own, not really. The downside, or the upside depending on how you look at it was that since Flynn had moved in with Breck, Cordelia found herself eating two evening meals on the days she visited the tavern. She couldn’t be sure if it was the extra diving practise or what but she was ravenous and found herself eating at the lighthouse as well as the tavern.
The eve of Cordelia’s sixteenth birthday was no different, not to begin with. Having finished her diving practise, Cordelia ate in the dining hall with her friends before making her way to the tavern where she tucked into her second evening meal of the day. The only difference was that after eating at the tavern she felt famished; she felt so hungry she could have eaten her own arm. Even Breck had passed comment on the speed at which Cordelia had eaten.
“Slow down,” he said, “you’ll give yourself indigestion.”
Cordelia’s face flushed red and she soon said her goodbyes and left.
She was in an odd frame of mind, distant, slightly agitated but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason why. Keen to get to a food source, Cordelia walked with Réalta in the darkness, through the alley ways and across the beach but all she could find was rotting seaweed and small periwinkles.
She whispered to Réalta, “Go home.”
Without a second thought, Cordelia walked into the water in search of something to satisfy her appetite. She hunted through the night, devouring each tasty morsel as though it were her last. Once her hunger was satiated, she hauled herself onto the rocks of the amphitheatre and in the light of the almost full moon she watched the great waves of the Atlantic rolling towards her in wild, white fury.
The next day was Saturday 21st May 1853, the day Cordelia turned sixteen. A constant itching in her shoulder blades had kept her awake for most of the night and a sense of unease stirred deep within her soul. Cordelia had only been asleep for a couple of hours when footsteps and talking in the tunnel outside her chamber caused her to wake. Realising she’d overslept, Cordelia swept the hair from across her face but as she did so, strands of hair came loose and rested between her finger tips. Surprised, Cordelia ran her fingers through her hair again and more strands came loose. She put it down to changes in the weather and threw the loose strands in the fire. Her hair fizzed and crackled as it burned and silver sparks jumped out of the fire and onto the floor. Cordelia watched with interest and once they fizzled out she climbed into the bath tub. Her shoulder blades were red raw from all the scratching and she winced as she lowered her body into the cool, salt water.
“Cordelia?” called Lana, hammering on the door. “Are you up?”
“I’m in the bath!” she called back. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“Happy birthday!” called Lana.
“Happy birthday!” called Nerissa and Masika in unison.
“Thank you!” called Cordelia.
“We’ll wait for you in the dining hall,” said Lana.
“Don’t be too long now,” said Nerissa.
Cordelia gently squeezed a sponge over her shoulder, allowing the water to trickle down her back. The pain turned her stomach and made her feel sick. She tugged at the towel that was hanging by the fireplace and held it across the front of her body as she walked over to the mirror. She glanced at herself side on, twisting to get a better view of her shoulder blades. The skin looked sore and inflamed on both sides. She told herself she’d see Amathia about it if things didn’t improve over the weekend. Right now, her friends were waiting and she needed to get dressed. She pulled on her clothes, but even the soft, cotton fabric of her shirt tied her stomach in knots when it brushed against her skin. She’d never felt anything like it. Once dressed, Cordelia brushed her hair. She sat in quiet shock, staring at the unusual amount of hair coming out with the brush. She pulled the hair out from between the bristles and brushed her hair again. Great clumps were coming out. She put the brush down and combed her hair through with her fingers instead but still her hair came loose; strand upon strand of long, grey hair wrapped itself around her fingers and she desperately tried to wipe it off. Inside she was panicking.
“What’s wrong with me?” she muttered under her breath.
Thirty minutes had passed since her friends had knocked the door and now they were back.
“Cordelia!” called Nerissa, “Are you ready yet?”
“Can we come in?” asked Lana.
“Just a moment!” called Cordelia.
She threw the clumps of hair into the fire and opened the door. This time even more sparks flew from the fire.
“Indoor fireworks?” said Masika. “That’s new.”
“Why not?” asked Nerissa. “It is her birthday.”
Lana stepped forward and hugged her friend. “Happy birthday.”
Cordelia flinched. “Thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Lana.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” said Cordelia. “Must have over done it with the diving practise.”
“Here,” said Nerissa, handing Cordelia a package. “It’s a gift, from all of us.”
Cordelia smiled. “You didn’t need to…”
“We wanted to,” said Nerissa.
Cordelia was touched
