The Ocean Breeze

*Warning this story contains triggering topics related to mental health and physical violence.*

The Ocean Breeze

It’s been years since I’ve felt the sea breeze on my skin, tangling my long wavy hair into knots. It was nice to feel the sand underneath my bare feet. Hearing the crash of the waves and the squawk of the seagulls as they fly above me. The smell was a mixture of the salty sea and sunscreen. 

It felt good to be at the beach again. I spent a lot of my childhood here and felt like the perfect place to clear my mind now that my whole family was gone. My therapist told me it was good to surround myself with happy memories. To surround myself with family even when they aren’t around anymore. 

I walked toward the ocean now feeling the wind go through my whole body. I stopped and held my arms out wide. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. The sun was still rising, but I could feel the heat on my body. I took a deep breath in and as the water swallowed my feet I exhaled. I open my eyes as the water pulls back into the ocean. 

I hear a child laugh and I turn my head to the left where the laughter was coming from. I then see a ghost of the childhood version of myself with my brother and sister. The three of us are laughing and running back toward our mom and dad probably because we hadn’t put sunscreen on. The three of us would usually drop everything we were carrying and run straight to the ocean while our mom yelled at us.

I follow the younger version of myself and let the memory play out. My mom is trying to perfectly lay down our large towel, but the wind is making it difficult for her. Every time she gets one corner straightened out another gets messed up. As soon as it’s flat the three of us run over it, getting sand all over the place. I laugh at the annoyance on my mom’s face. It only lasts for a second before her smile returns. My mom almost always had a smile on her face.

I look over at my dad who is struggling to get the umbrella to stay up. He tends to get into a fight with the umbrella every trip to the beach. That umbrella was probably his biggest enemy. My dad was very friendly and understanding. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like my dad. In fact, my whole family was liked by everybody. Makes me think why bad things happen to good people.

I switch my attention back to the three of us kids. We were rubbing sunscreen all over each other. We always used the cream because my mom refused to buy the spray. She’s convinced it doesn’t do a good job protecting our skin. Plus, it was easy to miss spots on our bodies.

The moment we would finish putting on sunscreen we’d head straight back into the water where we would spend hours. We would be splashing each other, diving under waves, body surfing, boogie boarding, and just swimming around either until we got hungry or until our mom told us to reapply sunscreen. Most of the time it would be when we get hungry because our mom usually got lost in a book.

This particular memory was one of the times she yelled at us to reapply sunscreen. The ghost of her was now standing next to me. She smiled at the three heads bobbing in the water. I wonder what she was thinking at the moment. She then yelled “All right my little mermaids and merman it’s time to reapply sunscreen before you turn into lobsters.” 

The three of us swam back to shore. We raced right past our mom kicking sand all over the place as we reached our stuff. My dad was handing us our towels. We each wrapped ourselves up in our matching striped towels. My towel was yellow and white. My sister’s was pink and white. My brother’s was green and white. Those were our favorite colors. 

We all took a spot on the large towel as our dad handed us our sandwiches and chips. Mine was just a regular peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but for some reason it just always tasted better on the beach. Everything tasted better at the beach.

My mom pulled out a bag of sliced watermelon. If my mom had any superpower, it would be that she could always pick out the perfect watermelon. It was always juicy and perfectly ripe. The moment she pulled out the watermelon we neglected our sandwiches and devoured the watermelon.

Beach memories were always happy for me. Our beach days seemed to almost always be the same. Though I knew where this memory was going. This beach day was slightly different. This had changed the beach for us. In fact, this was the last day we had ever gone to the beach.

My siblings and I were now building a sandcastle. We always try to make a bigger and better sandcastle than the last time. We were joking around and laughing. Every so often we would wave at our mom and dad. 

The sun slowly started to vanish. I looked up and the clouds were quickly rolling in. The weather said nothing about a storm, but this wasn’t the first time the weather lied to us and ruined a perfectly good beach day. We continued building our sand castle as if nothing was happening. 

I could feel drops of water hitting me, but I wasn’t in the ocean. I realized it was beginning to rain, which was ruining our sandcastle. We look up at mom and dad who are starting to pack things up. Our perfect beach day was starting to turn into the beginning of a nightmare.

Thunder started to fill the sky, the tide was rising, and the waves were getting larger. Then a flash of lightning lit up the sky. The storm came so suddenly and so intensely. The three of us began grabbing all of our pails and shovels. The water had made its way up to where our sandcastle was and took a shovel with it. I began to chase after it. I was only nine at the time. I went into the water and could instantly feel a strong pull. 

Before I knew it the ocean had swallowed me up and I was fighting to find the surface. All I could hear was the crashing of the waves, the thunderous sky, and the pounding rain hitting the ocean. I was screaming for help, but how could they hear me? I gave into the ocean's commands. I told myself this way I would be a mermaid forever. Then I was surrounded by darkness.

I look away from the memory and focus back to the present. Where the ocean was calm and pleasant. It seemed so harmless at the moment. It makes it hard to imagine how quickly it can become violent and dangerous, but I guess that can apply to most things. Something can be so innocent until it’s not.

I turn back to the memory as I gasp for air. My mom, sister, and brother were hovering above me and my dad was on his knees next to me. My dad had brought me back to life. I took in my surroundings. We were still on the beach. I was on our large towel, and it was still raining hard. All of us soaking wet. It was hard to tell, but it looked as if everyone was crying. 

I sat up and everything felt different. I couldn’t find the words to say anything. It didn’t matter because I was suddenly engulfed in a group hug. We grabbed the rest of our stuff, and my dad carried me to the car. 

The memory completely fades as I watch the ghost version of my family walk away. I closed my eyes one last time to picture my family happy on the beach again. I didn’t want that to be the last memory of the beach that I would have with them. I went back to the beginning of that memory and played it as a loop in my head.

Every time the wind blew, I could hear the laughter of my brother and sister. Laughter I’ll never be able to hear again. Every time a seagull flew by or squawked; I pictured my mom shooing them away. Something she will never be able to do again. I began to walk deeper into the ocean. Goosebumps spread all over my body as it adjusts to the cold water. My family will never get to feel the ocean water on their skin again. 

The beach was a happy place for me, and I want to remember it that way, but it changed me. I was never the same after that day. The ocean had taken something from me. Something I loved so much was so cruel to me. Though the things or people that love us the most tend to hurt us the most.

I was knee deep into the ocean. I look down at my clothes covered in red. It didn’t feel good. It was slightly warm and sticky. I take my clothes off and throw them into the ocean. They were suffocating me. I look down at my hands covered in the same red sticky stuff on my clothes. My heart started to beat faster as I realized what it was. It was blood and it was all over me. It was their blood.

I closed my eyes and began to sob as I replayed what had happened before I ended up here at the beach. That’s how it always was when I blacked out. I wouldn’t remember what would happen until hours or days later when the memories came rushing in. 

The demons in my head had taken over. They forced me to grab a knife. I went to my older sister's room who just moved back home after graduating college and I slit her throat. Then I went to my parent's room where I slit my dad’s throat. My mom woke up and screamed. She jumped up and tried to run away, but I tackled her to the ground and stabbed her six times. My brother came to check on the noise and when he saw the bloody mess I made he bolted. Luckily for me he tripped down the stairs. I caught up to him and stabbed him an absurd amount of times. 

I then went straight to the car with the knife still in hand. I placed the knife in the passenger seat and drove twenty-two hours to our favorite beach. I needed to wash my sins away. I needed to cleanse myself. I don’t know why I killed them. I just know they are gone now and it’s all my fault. 

“Hey!” I heard someone yell from the shore as I continued to go deeper. “This isn’t a nude beach!” They shouted, but I ignored them.

I dunked my head underwater and just stayed there. Maybe this time when the water swallows me up it will take me for good. The ocean was at peace though and I couldn’t get myself to stay under until I drowned. I resurfaced feeling sad, disappointed, lonely, and angry all at once. 

“Don’t make me call the cops!” The person shouted again. 

I turn to face the person talking to me. They were a petite, pale skinned blonde girl with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was in jogging gear and was probably out for her morning run. 

I make my way out of the ocean. I still had my underwear on, but my breasts were exposed because I hadn’t put a bra on. The lady had her phone to her ear. She was talking to the police. I didn’t stop her or convince her to hang up.

I turned back to the ocean. I took a seat on the sand, pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I felt like I was nine years old all over again, but this time I was alone and scared. The breeze picked up again and gave me chills all over my body. I didn’t care. 

I hear the sirens of the police car pull up. I don’t bother moving. I hear the lady talking to them. “Excuse me ma’am we are going to have to take you in.” They were being gentle with me, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t get myself to move.

“Miss, are you okay?” One of the officers said, blocking my view of the ocean.

I had a thousand thoughts going through my head. A million words I wanted to say, but as usual I could never speak to them. I hadn’t said a single word since that day. I just stare up at the officer. They asked me politely a couple more times before they had to force me up. 

As they helped me up and put my hands behind my back to handcuff me. I just stared at the ocean because we were one in the same. We both could be so innocent and calm one minute then vicious and violent the next. They turned me around to guide me toward their car. I looked over my shoulder as the ocean slowly became more distant. I then see my mom, dad, and the childhood versions of me and my siblings. They wave goodbye to me before vanishing into the wind. This would be the last time that I’ll ever see the ocean, feel the sand between my toes, hear the seagulls squawking, and smell the saltiness in the air.

Right before they placed me in the back of their car I swear the wind whispered “goodbye” to me. For the first time in years I managed to whisper “goodbye” back.