Fractal Sea

Day 5

Bones reduced to driftwood, carried by the tide that knows no mercy.

Voices unravel in the brine, torn from their throats and strung like kelp.

Writhing, twisting, and forgotten.

The sea keeps no promises, only echoes of what once was.

It swallows bodies whole, breaking minds into splinters,

And scatters memories along the shore like glass.

Faces blur behind the veil of salt and spray,

Names dissolve into meaningless syllables,

And laughter, once warm, curdles to a distorted hum beneath the waves.

The current does not steal.

It simply forgets to return what it has taken.

Father is not home when I'm awake. I woke up far earlier than usual because I'm having difficulties sleeping, so I opened my eyes before the sun even rises. Curious, I put my long shirt on with blanket in my embrace, then stepped outside of the house.

There father stood, just a few meters from the house, on top of a pile of black rocks. The tide washes against the rocks, making eerie roaring "voices." Father simply stood still, staring far into the sea with his arms crossed. He said nothing. His body is firm like stone, unmoving amidst the wind and washing current. I called out to him.

"Father!!"

"Mika?" He noticed me right away, and slowly climbed down from the rocks.

"How long have you been there, father? You'll get sick from all the wind!" I said as I give him the blanket I'm carrying.

"Right, I warned you about that yesterday, yet here I am doing it myself. Sorry about that. Thank you for the blanket, it helps a lot."

"Father, what were you doing? No matter how you look at it, people will find what you're doing strange."

"True. But sorry, I can't tell you just yet. You'll know once you get older, one way or another." Father said as he puts the blanket around his shoulders and back, covering him from the wind.

"Well then, shall we get back inside?"

"... Mm."

I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to ask further than that. Something in my head told me that bad things will happen if I ask unnecessary questions. But even when I know these questions needed answers, I don't have the courage to ask.

It feels choking.

This morning's breakfast is the leftover honey chicken from last night. Father roasted them again without letting them getting burnt, and slathered even more honey compared to before. It definitely tastes good, but I can't deny that it still doesn't feel warming. Father acted like nothing strange is going on, as if he forgot what happened yesterday and what he just did. But I remembered everything so vividly. A woman that I don't recognize the voice of just called out my name, a woman I can't even see. It sounded somewhat like a whisper too, as if the voice came from right beside my head.

I wanted to tell him everything I know, but something in my gut told me not to. It forces me to stay quiet, convincing me that staying silent is the best decision. But I can't deny the strong desire to tell him everything that's worrying me. After all, shouldn't lovers always confide their worries with each other?

... Wait, what am I saying? "Me"? Was that actually me saying things? No, that came from my mind, but the voice sounds unfamiliar.

That was not my voice.

After that, all I see is dark, and faint voices of father calling out my name.

.

.

.

I woke up feeling lightheaded. Did I fell unconscious? I took some time adjusting my eyes to my surroundings. This is my house, and everything feels familiar. The light breeze from the sea coming in from the ventilation, the smell of brine, and the voice of someone dear to me. He called out to me, said my name in such a hushed and worried tone, and hugged me like I'm a long-lost family member from his life. The morning sun slips from the holes on the roof, shining on our faces.

"... What just happened? Why am I indoors now?"

"You fell unconscious, remember? I brought you in and put warm towel on your forehead because your body felt cold to the touch. I was so worried..."

"But I'm fine now, so there's no need to worry anymore, right?"

"Right. I'm so glad you're still with me, Mira. I could never imagine my life without you..."

... Mira.

Right, that's my name.

Mira Irantia.