The Oceans Whispers

There is a feeling that strikes me each time I return back to the ocean. A sharp feeling that makes me wonder if my fate is slowly turning on its edge, circling like a spinning coin until it falls flat on the table. The waves lapping against the waves make me flinch, asking me in the mists of saltwater if I remember whose hands my fate truly lies in. 

Distant sounds of creatures, larger and more terrified than I am called out in the dusk. The smell of fish and sand is diluted by the growing smell of hunger that masks our small shoreline at night. The echoes of starvation, of an evil cowardice that calls out in the night, preying on anything that moves. I find my nest, hidden amongst the trees, surrounded by the tree dwelling creatures who only call out in the morning. They see me rest and it puts them at ease, knowing that of anyone in these trees, I would be the first target for the beast. 

I’ve heard the tree creatures speak of him. They called him, the beast, as if he were something to fear. Only once have I ever seen him in full, on the grazing fields where the colorful creatures with powerful legs run free. He stood alone the time I saw him, towering over the fields with a snarling face. His teeth bared and his giant legs spread wide as he lunged forward, snatching one of the running creatures off the ground. Everything ran from him, sprinting to save their lives. But that day I saw him, I couldn’t feel the fear set in every other animal's mind, all I felt was the pain of being alone.

There are no peaceful moments here, the only ease I can feel is when I dream of a life long gone to me. A painful reality that curses the fate spun for me. The angry calls of night bring back the hope I wish for in the morning, twirling my head into knots. 

No monster or beast compares to the insanity brewing in my mind at night. Memories spin in my head, making me sick. It feels like eons ago when I last saw another creature like me. My family, my friends who had helped to raise me into the grown creature I am today. They are back home, back at the place where I belong. A place I can never return to. 

Years ago now, a rage-like storm swelled throughout our small plane of life. It roared louder than any monster that crawls along the earth. The trees we took shelter in tipped, whipping their palms onto our backs. Rain poured down in thick ice clouds, pelting the ground with the power of gods. That storm took everything from my family, separating us in the dead of night. The beaches screamed, folding sheets of water into our nest and dragging us out into the cold. I was one of the few who was swallowed by the storm that night. My family called into the echo of the storm, hoping their voices could command it. My voice was laden with salt and cowardice, keeping me from pleading for their help. I was taken into the ocean, lapped through waves forged in anger. A constant fight through the salty air and endless sea to breathe, to hold my hope in my heart and stay alive. The ocean commanded my fate that night, tearing me from the paradise of love and communion bringing me to a wretched land of horror and fear.

I think of that storm when my eyes close at night, the sounds of the wind mock me as I try and forget the screams called out that day. My mind carries me back over the ocean, brings me back to my home where I belong. But my body remains here, in the barren land of monsters and evil. 

The darkness behind my eyes mocks me as I try to rest and the echoes of screams rattle through my ears. I stand, looking out through the trees to the beach. The ocean calls me, bickering back and forth from wave to wave. It crackles as it splashes against the rocks and evil grins where the horizon meets the sky. I let the water soak into my feet, pooling around me as an offering to pull me in. The mist whips on my face and asks me to join in it’s game. Far beyond the ocean, I know my family waits for my return. 

My body falls to the sand, the weakness plagued by my loneliness aches in each of my bones. A dull thud sounds as my head hits the sand. In a pathetic attempt to rid myself of this land I call out into the night, my voice losing its sounds over the ocean. I close my eyes and let the water wash over my head, for brief moments I hold my breath under the water and pull myself deeper into the ocean's call. The weight of my weak bones lightens as I float in the water, surrounded by the infinite call of the saltwater. 

The ocean takes me, slowly moving me into the night waters. I accept my fate, slowly spinning to a halt in time. I look to the stars, wondering if my family could pull the ocean closer to them, bringing my body back home. The ocean carries me, bringing me back to an endless sea. It rocks me through the dead of night, asking each time my head bobs under the water if I would like to breathe again. I’m never sure what to say when it asks me. I feel my feet get heavy, sinking beneath me as my head and tail keep me afloat. The ocean finally asks me for the last time if I want to see my fate slowly stop spinning or if I want to pick it back up and spin it once more. I feel the thud of the coin on the table, halting my life as the ocean brings me into itself. My home is long waiting on the ocean's tongue as I shift in the deep darkness of the night's water.