Crossing: The Journey of a Soul

The sun peeked shyly over the horizon, spreading its first rays across the immensity of the sea. A child awoke, feeling his face sink into the damp sand. His eyes still heavy with fatigue, he slowly raised his head, the fine, salty grains of the beach clinging to his skin. He took a deep breath, smelling the sea air mixed with the dry sweat that permeated his body. The waves came and went in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic movement, as if trying to calm the fear that was beginning to take shape in his chest.

He stood there for a moment, unsure of where he was. The salt water touched his bare feet, bringing a sensation of freshness that contrasted with the weight of the sand on his legs. He staggered to his feet with difficulty and looked around. The beach stretched as far as the eye could see, deserted and silent except for the constant sound of the waves. Then he turned towards the sea, the same sea he had heard about so many times, but had only known in his dreams. The blue expanse stretched before him, imposing and indifferent, like a sleeping giant.

It was then that the memories began to return.

There, in his village, in the dry expanse of a forgotten land, life was hard. Drought punished the crops, food was scarce and water even rarer. The nights were long and the days filled with work and hardship. But despite the hardships, there was hope. He had heard stories from his elders about a land far away, on the other side of the world.

A land where people lived in freedom, without fear, where children ran free and the future always seemed promising.

'The land of the white man,' some said. The land of dreams,' murmured others.

And so, like many before her, the child began to dream of that land. She dreamed of plenty of food, beautiful clothes, a life free from the pain and sorrow that marked their existence. He dreamed of running through green fields, of seeing cities so big they made the mountains seem small. And little by little, the dream became a burning desire, an uncontrollable need to escape the reality that imprisoned them.

The decision to leave wasn't easy. She knew the dangers. Everyone knew. The journey was long and the sea treacherous. Many tried and never made it. But the desire for freedom was greater than the fear. He gathered his courage, left his village and his few friends behind, and embarked on an adventure that would change everything.

But the sea was unforgiving. The days and nights on the ship were filled with silent agony. The rocking of the waves, which at first had a certain fascination, soon became martyrdom. Hunger ate away at their stomachs and thirst parched their throats. The people around them, piled on top of each other, moaned softly, without the strength to scream or call for help. They all knew they were at the mercy of fate. The sea would decide who lived and who died.

And then, in a brief moment between despair and hope, it all came to an end.

Now, standing there, looking out at the sea that seemed so calm, he asked himself: was it worth it? Was it worth the suffering, the pain, the fear, the uncertainty of every moment?

She felt the light wind touch her face, like a parting touch. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. She remembered her mother, her tired smile as she gave her the last piece of bread. She remembered her brothers running across the dry land, their bare feet kicking up dust. She remembered her friends who, like her, dreamed of the distant land but stayed behind. Most of all, he remembered his mother's last look, filled with a silent sadness, but with a hint of hope.

Go, my son,' she had said. Find the freedom we do not have here.

Those words echoed now as the sea continued its indifferent dance. The child wondered if he had really found that freedom. Was there something beyond the promise on the other side of the sea? Or was she, like so many others, destined to be lost among the waves, never to reach the dream she had cherished?

The child's feet sank deeper into the sand as she stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the horizon. There was a strange stillness in the air, as if the world itself had stopped for a moment to observe her question.

Is there freedom for everyone? The question lingered in the back of her mind.

Then a sudden thought struck her: what if there was nothing left? What if this moment, standing on the sand, was all she had left? She felt a pang of sadness, but also relief. Somehow it no longer mattered. The weight of the journey was beginning to lift, and suddenly everything seemed to make sense.

He looked down at his body. It felt light, almost ethereal, as if it were floating. The fatigue of the journey, the hunger and the pain all seemed to be behind her. Slowly she realised that something was different. The outlines of her form began to fade, as if she were made of mist, and the solid earth beneath her feet seemed further and further away.

And then he realised.

Crossing the ocean wasn't about reaching a new world, it was about leaving the old one behind. The suffering of the crossing was not in vain, for it wasn't about reaching a physical place, but about the journey of the soul, about freeing it from all that bound it to the past.

The child smiled softly. She looked at the sea one last time, now feeling a deep connection to it. It was as if the sea had always been her true destiny. The waves, so calm now, seemed to whisper ancient secrets to her, stories of other souls who had also made the crossing.

She took a step forward, feeling lighter and lighter. The world around her faded away and she, now just a gentle breeze, let the wind carry her away. There was no more pain, no more hunger, no more fear. There was only peace.

The child's soul finally departed.

The body lay inert on the sand as the waves slowly enveloped it. And the sea, in its infinite wisdom, welcomed him back, as it had always done to all those who dared to dream.

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Along the deserted beach, the sun was already rising, casting its first golden rays over the blue immensity. The crossing was over.