The Sea

III

The girl let out a heavy sigh. Still lying on her bed, she rubs her face with her hands. She moves to a fetal position, her arms hugging her legs. Her head is buried on her knees, suppressing another round of tears. Her heart aches as she remembers every memory. Some were good, some were the best, some were embarrassing, but most are of her self-pitying.

All this time, she's too focused on what she feels. She just swims aimlessly into the sea. She doesn't care if she destroys a coral, or steps on a fish. She just swims to wherever she's going. Her words are unfiltered. Her logic is of pathos. "I am doing this for myself," this is her reason, "because nobody else cares." As a form of comfort, as a defense, she self-isolates, but harms everybody, including herself.

Then a flash is seen. The girl's heart skips a beat. She looks up. The sky lit up like a broken flashlight. Three consecutive flashes of light, streaks of lightning covers the sky. Then, they are gone as fast as they appeared. But, in less than a minute, another is seen.

Every time the sky is lit, the girl's heart would jump a beat. Her hands are clammy. She's covered in sweat. She would straighten up whenever she sees the lightning streaks. Her chest feels constricted. Her breathing is labored. Her gaze slowly blurs, and that's when she heard. A thunder so loud, the water ripples. It's like an earthquake that shook the earth. She covers her ears with her hands. Images appear in her head. Not so pleasant pictures. "Go away," she mutters.

Memories, bad ones, rushes back in. "Please, please, please," she repeats again and again. Tears fall once more. Down from her eyes, on her cheeks, to her elbows. "I'm sorry, please," she pleads, but her brain didn't listen.

The waves are violent. Lightning and thunder doesn't help. The sea is in rage, and every fish is hiding from the monster that has surfaced. But the girl, oh how pitiful, still afloat the water, but barely surviving through the storm. She is in fear. Her body is covered in cold sweat. Every single boom equals an unpleasant story, something that she is afraid to see. She is not ready. She is unable to accept. She is wrong, she knows it, and she feels guilty of what she did.

Guilt – a painful feeling to feel, a salt thatis added to an open wound; a result of a bad action. But something that is onlyfelt to those that are truly sorry for what they caused. Guilt – an emotion. Ithas its pros and cons. But it's a start of accepting, an acknowledgement thatshe is in fault.