Prologue━━━━━━━━━━━━ She?

            Adelaide Simmons, despite frequent misinterpretations, wasn't a Kook. Well, sure, if you were being technical, she was. But her friends and family would be adamant to defend the truth that her heart and soul translated her clear orientation; the girl was nothing but a die-hard Pogue. The concept was embedded in her bones and cursed through her veins, just like blood did in one's body. 

Anywhere she walked, trails of bright sparks and childish giggles seemed to follow her like hungry wolves. Adelaide was fierce, wether she was plunging her chestnut tangles in the salty marsh water or twirling her body swiftly under a cursed melody that echoed through the heavy night air.

Her soul revolved around the golden specks that dotted seashells, discarded onto the grainy sand that sprinkled her soft skin. Or the sticky drops of watermelon juice that dribbled down one's chin after an ambitious bite. Only then would her lips twist into a wide grin, allowing the shine of her teeth to match the pearls on her wrist.

 Nonetheless, one couldn't ignore her background: being born in luxury did lead for the girl to appreciate the occasional pleasures of comfort. Living in Figure Eight, but spending half of her day in the Cut, she flavoured both worlds like a pair of scarlet cherries. Revelling in the fashion and richness of the island while thriving in situations of perpetual risk. Life was too short to waste, anyways!

Though the life the charming girl chose did cause for repetitive identity crises. Where did she belong? With who? She felt like she was tied to two (very long, too long) ropes, and people would just pull and pull and pull from both sides until she exploded like a confetti balloon.

 And one question inked her mind like a plague: How was this all going to end?

You have such an angel face, Adelaide, who would've possibly known what those glossy eyes hid?  A thunder storm, doomed to destroy everything and everyone along her path? Or simply the mechanics of a young brain, seeking the constant pleasure of trouble.