The Rebellious Kid

The sea. Something beautiful, yet terrifying. Like me.

I have so many thoughts on my head that I have been known to be always off the world. It isn’t a lie though. Many people think that I must be thinking about something scary, like cutting someone’s head and cooking it for dinner, but I always find myself going to that one place. The sea. Blue, sometimes green or even gray, it changes based on that day's weather, like I change my clothes because of the rain or the intense sun.

From a long distance, I can’t see the strong waves that are always circling around in what seems to be a boring routine, just like mine. So I just lie on the sand, beside the sea, and think about my stories. They all are like the sea; beautiful on the outside but surprising on the inside.

"Surprising in a good or bad way?" you ask. I don't know either, I just know that creativity brings it all together. People aren't all the same, so what's good for some of them, might be the worst for the others.

Every student in my class was given a picture of the sea and a horse running on the beach, and we all should write something based on it. Why is my brain so complicated? I look at the image and thousands of ideas come to my head.

“shhh” I try to mute them, but I forgot that our generation didn’t invent a head control. I must say “yet” because I am actually thinking about doing it since I can’t sleep well because of how messy my whole brain is.

I grab my pencil and the words start floating like the picture’s waves.

-Hello! – I hear a girlish voice behind me and turn around until I meet a blonde girl who must be around my age.

-Hi!

-Isn’t the sea something really scary?

My eyes become wider. Is it that scarier? I wish I could watch it for the rest of my life.

-Why do you say that? – I end up asking.

-My father drowned on this beach a few years ago…

-I’m sorry to hear that. – I say while lowering my eyes. I feel my whole body shivering and cringing.

My sea? My sea did that to her father?

-It’s ok. I always come here because my mother used to tell me when I was younger, that we should give people extra opportunities for them to show us how good they are. I tried to do it with the sea, but I can’t.

I just nod my head.

-Can you please tell me why do you love it so much?- she interrogates.

-How do you know that I like it that much? – I ask surprised.

-Your smile… - she stops while looking at my eyes – and I always see you coming here.

She knows something. I look at my hands. What did she see?

-One day, you came here crying really bad, but once you got the chance to sit next to the sea you smiled, even though you had no reasons to do it.

She waits for me to answer.

I try to get the courage to say something, but I can’t.

My sister…

I compose myself and start:

-My sister… - I pause – she also died.

The girl’s eyes become bigger and intrigued. As I take much time to talk again, she asks:

-Was it also because of the sea?

-Yes.

I try my best to hold back my tears.

-I’m sorry.

The roles have changed. Or are we the same character now?

-The sea took something really important from me, but it wasn’t “his” fault. – I affirm.

-What do you mean?- the girl asks in a curious way.

-We took something out of “him” first.

She looks at me with a questionable look on her face and I continue:

-We took all “he” had. “His” space.

The girl doesn’t say a word.

-Imagine that someone just entered your house and said that it was his/her property now. You would be angry, right?

-Uhm… I never thought about it in that way.

-It must be stupid for you to hear what I think, but that’s the only explanation I can find.

She keeps her mouth closed.

-The sea is beautiful in my eyes. How do you see it?- I ask.

-For me, it looks gray and furious, waiting for me to come there to take me away. How do you see it as a “beautiful” thing?

-Look at the way “he” is trying to approach us – I point at the waves that are coming closer and closer to our feet.

The girl laughs.-“He” is just embarrassed. – I wink at her – “He” is sorry for what he did. The sea is just a rebellious kid who just broke a car's window after his father told him not to play football near the cars.

We laugh at how unique our talk is and just sit beside each other, besides the sea. I am contemplating the good things about it, while my new friend is trying to understand what I mean when I say that what we have beside us is beautiful.

After a while, I break the silence and say:

-Read this, I made it for an English class.

The girl grabs the crumpled paper I took out of my pocket and I leave.

 “The sea looks beautiful tonight and, even though I am not a big fan of horses, I can also picture them in my head. That’s what makes writers so special. Their feelings become our feelings and I end up looking at the horses in such a beautiful way that I just lie in the sand, again, and realize that there are thousands of ways to see certain things. See it for yourself and express it to other people or learn from what others see and become a writer who can express both his feelings and other people’s".

My new friend smiles and ends up falling asleep beside her biggest “enemy”. “He” calmed her down. “He” made her fall asleep and even sang a song for her.

“The sea is just a rebellious kid who just broke a car's window after his father told him not to play football near the cars.”