Blink

Blink once.

Waves lap quietly against the rocks.

Blink twice.

Waves lap quietly against the rocks.

Sarah watched the waves, listening to the pattern they sung as they lapped against the rocks in the ocean. She was the only person on the beach. She ran her fingers through the cold sand and watched as it seeped through the cracks between her fingers, still listening to the waves. This was her safe place. Her sanctuary. Her home away from home, providing comfort and solace, even when she no longer needed it.

She couldn’t recall how many nights she spent waiting for the sunset or how many mornings she spent waiting for the sunrise. She just recalls the peace that swallowed her soul when she did so.

She had told nobody about her secret spot near the end of the pier. It’s always dead here. No bars, arcades, or shops occupied this end of the pier so people were scarce. At the very end, both lights were broken and had been for years. Sarah had discovered an old, rickety bench at this end while riding her bike late at night years ago. She was searching for a quiet spot to sit and enjoy her book. It was so quiet and so peaceful just having the lapping of the waves to lull her through the night and the very faint distant voices of people, so distant, they hadn’t sounded like they were speaking words. Just worlds away from where she was.

It was at the moment that Sarah had finished her book, reading it cover to cover, that she realized just how much time had actually passed her by.

The sun was rising.

Sarah noticed an opening to the beach that was behind the rickety bench. It was like a secret entrance just for her, the moon, and the sun. A secret all her own.

She ventured onto the beach, dropping into the sand, and watched the sunrise on her own, her book clutched in between both hands.

There was something magnificent and magical about watching the sunrise on your own.

After that day, Sarah dubbed this “her spot” and would come often. Sometimes, she’d watch the sunset. Other times, she’d watch the sunrise. There was no rhyme or reason for her to come here. As an Introvert, she found peace on her own and with quiet contemplation.

This is where she came when she and her mother had fought.

This is where she came when her mother and father had told Sarah and her siblings about their impending divorce.

This is where she came after she had won the 1st place prize for a literacy piece at school. She had felt overwhelmed by the sheer energy of other people who congratulated her, surrounded her, and tried to engage her in small talk. This was her center.

She came here when starting new books.

She came here when writing new books.

She came here when Jimmy Zamudio had kissed her while tutoring him.

She came here when her best friend had moved away.

And she came here today to reflect on the week. No other reason. As Saturday was coming to an end and Sunday began a new week for Sarah and everybody else, she wanted to reflect on her week. It was ordinary. Boring. But also different all at once.

This was the last week of summer vacation and soon Sarah would begin her senior year of high school.

She was excited, but afraid. Though not exactly popular, Sarah was also not an outcast. She simply made the decision to stick to herself most of the time, though she was friendly with everyone. She was invited to parties frequently and outings with the other kids, but rarely had the energy or desire to partake in the activities. She just preferred quiet evenings at home or on the beach to read, write, and regroup.

Sarah sighed a long exhale, thinking about the words her mother had spoken to her earlier, “Sarah, you HAVE to start hanging out with others your own age more often. I’m concerned about you. You don’t go out, don’t date, don’t do anything rebellious. At your age, I was already… “ and this was when Sarah had tuned her mother out. She knew the worry and concern she had felt would fade as her mother reveled in her memories, revisiting teenage years and memories of innocent rebellion that had long since passed by her.

She often wonders if her mother was living vicariously through her. But she had no more words to say. Nothing else she says or does would ever make Diana realize that Sarah was not like her older brother and sister, not like her mother, and she was her own person. One she quite liked. She was…different. In all the right ways.

She smiled and she watched the sky illuminate. It was changing colors from the darkened black sky with balls of light sporadically scattered throughout it to a purple, orange, red mix, like a painters easel. It dripped with the light of the morning, clouds splattered here and there as they began to wake up. Sarah caught a peek of the sun as it awoken, ready to signal to the world that the day was beginning, already saying “good morning” to Sarah as she watched the reflection of the sun and the colors of the sky through the ocean.

She had imagined the sun was playing hide and seek with the moon and when caught, would rise.

Inhaling once more, Sarah blinked once as the waves moved quicker, lapping more frequently against the rocks.

Blink twice.

Faster waves.

Sarah blinked once more before standing up and stretching. She inhaled…

1, 2, 3.

Exhale…

1,2,3.

Sarah bowed her head to the sun, silently sending a “good morning. I appreciate you.” thought to the sun. Silly, she knows. But it made her feel better, like the sun and she had a bond and connection that was intimate and strong. She felt ready to go home and prepare for Monday morning, when she’d become a senior in high school.

Blinking once more, Sarah hoisted herself up onto the pier, stealthily slipping through the unknown entrance, got on her bike, and began her journey home.