Expressions

Our Ocean: a short story

By ARIYANA ASH
Staff Writer

I run the warm grains of sand through my fingers mindlessly.

Every time I think of you, I come to our ocean. It was your favorite place. Whenever I gaze out into the tranquil water I remember you in your white dress. Your hair blown around by the breeze, the folds of your dress rustling. I can picture your piercing green eyes that touched my soul. You would laugh so passionately, without a care in the world. I admired your sense of adventure and your daring nature. I can still taste the salt in the air and hear the waves pounding on the sand, you far off in the distance at the shore with water lapping at your feet.

Now that you’re gone, I feel empty and incomplete. At your funeral, I wanted to stand up and scream at the top of my lungs. Scream that I was the only one who really knew you. I knew that your favorite color was lavender, your favorite candy was Starburst. I knew that to ease the pain you would turn to alcohol, desperate to consume anything to numb the pain and your racing thoughts. I wanted to stand up amongst the sad, stuffy room of people and tell them that your funeral should have been at the ocean, it was your favorite place. I knew so much about you.

I tried to stop you that night. I keep replaying what happened the last time I saw you, over and over. “Stay,” I pleaded with you. “Please, please, please.” All you did in response was turn to me and gaze at me blankly with those beautiful, beautiful eyes and lift the bottle to your lips. Without a second thought you drove off into the black night. As I watched your car peel away, I knew that something bad was going to happen. I could just feel it. My heart sank and defeated, I trudged back into my house.  You’re gone now and I don’t know what to do. I’m angry at you, I miss you, I need you, I love you.

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