The fresh sea breeze ruffled Melaina’s long seaweed hair. The ocean-spring breeze filled her lungs. She loved walking through the forest at midnight, with the moon reflecting the sun’s rays upon the earth. The thrill of listening to the whispers of the trees, the breathing of the flowers, made her want to go out every night, even though she knew it was dangerous for a girl her age to go about that late. The Island of Paros was not a place for a young 16 year old to be about in the later night.

Once again, the continuous argument about going about at night had broken out for the millionth time with her father. She had gotten caught sneaking into the house at the early break of dawn once again. It was the same thing: “You are too beautiful to be going about,” “do you want men to hurt you?,” “You are never going to learn until something happens to you.” Melaina did not like confrontation; she had always been the shy one. The more they argued, the more he yelled, the more she wanted to run away, run away toward her real home. She had gone to the open cliff that led into the ocean. She couldn’t help it; a force of gravity that was stronger than her called her into the forest during the spring. However, it only occurred during the night, when the animals were hunted upon by the predator. It was something that bewildered, yet excited her all the same.

“I wish there was someone I could share what I feel,” Melaina murmured. The only being to whom she felt connected to was the goddess Persephony, the goddess of spring and the underworld. "Oh Almighty Persephony, please give me the knowledge of why those bushes over there are rustling so mightily," she asked in hope for an immediate answer.
The answer she got jumped out at her quicker than a balloon popped in the heat. It was a crowd of angry men, their saliva creeping down the side of their mouth as if strucken by rage. They were five of them, but they were the size of ten men. Broad shoulders, arms the size of a trunk, and heads the size of watermelons. They were all looking at Melaina intently, like a lion looks at its prey.
"What do you want from me, sirs?" inquired Melaina.
“We were wondering what a beautiful young lady such as yer self was doing goin’ about so late. It’s illegal, ya know,” the biggest one said.
“I thought I saw my horse galloping about,” she lied. It was not safe to tell them that she came here often.
“We can help yer widdat. Yer lookin’ kinda hungr’ there. We have six seeds, pomegranate seeds. Take ‘em. Come with us and you will never feel again,” they all cried in unison.
Suddenly, one of them charged at her, spear in hand, and the others followed along. Melaina stood there for a minute, shocked, until she recovered and began running as well. After running for only two minutes she came upon the montrocious cliff that lead into the ocean. There was no way out. There was no other choice. No time to think about it. It was do it then, or get punded into a myriad of pieces by the enourmous unknown men.
The men saw her running toward the cliff, none of them believing what they saw. The trees were glowing a light gold color. The stream rushed toward the girl and entered her body just as her feet were leaving the ground.
Closing her eyes, she jumped from the cliff without thought, saying a quick prayer to Poseidon, the ruler of the sea. Kicking and waving her hands with her eyes closed, she prepared to swim in the water which Poseidon ruled. “This is odd,” thought Melaina. She felt the tiredness as one does while swimming, but no water was around her. She felt herself being lifted from the ground, lifted above the rocks. She opened her eyes, dazed about the scene that was before her. She had not fallen, but rather she was floating in mid air. She was flying!
Careful to not let the men above the cliff see her, she tried kicking softly, so as to lower herself down. There were some rocks that could easily hide her thin body. Making her way over, she truncated her long, delicate dress with the sharp rocks. The heavy fabric was only making it difficult for her to keep her body up.
After waiting for an hour for the men to leave, she kicked her way up above the cold waves. Her body drenched in water and sweat, felt extremely heavy on her thin body. It was as if she was wearing an armor fit for a knight. She had to kick and wave her arms with tremendous force in order to propel herself upward. Once at the edge, she scanned the terrace circumspectly for the men.
Tired as she was from the infinite fly toward safety, she took off the top layer of clothes she had. Looking toward the horizon of the sun’s majestic awakening, she bowed her head and said a prayer to Persephone, thanking her for watching over her once again from the grasps of Hades.