Clouded Waters

Chapter Nine

Home. It's really funny when you actually think about it. I just got back to this place but I've hardly spent any actual time in my own house. The beach was where I had been, the physical building in which I lived? That place had begun to feel less and less like home each day. I couldn't will myself to go back to that beach, so home is where I chose to stay. My room, oh, my room. Never had I loathed the sight of it so much before. I had specifically designed it to remind me of the beach. A collection of seashells lined both windows in the room, another one of my own decorative pieces. I collected them back when I was a child and didn't yet know how to ride a wave. The carpeting was white, the closest shade to the sandy beaches that I could find, while the walls were a contrasting ocean blue. They reminded me of the strands of my hair that I had dyed only a summer before. They were nearly the same shade. I gave a quiet laugh at myself. Surfing had become such a huge part of my life, that I had even decided to make it a part of my appearance. If that's not devotion then I don't know what is.

"Obsessed," I admitted to myself. After taking in the sight around me, there was no other word to describe how I was feeling. I was so obsessed with the beach and surfing that I completely submerged myself in it. I felt an anger boiling inside me, an anger that I'm pretty sure was something stronger, and needed a name better than anger. Rage? No something was stronger than that. I threw my head back and released nothing short of a frustrated, angst-driven scream. My hands which were once at my sides needing something better, something to touch, something to destroy.

My attention shifted easily to the seashells. My mother had told me all of their different types years ago, so long ago that I don't even know if she still remembers them for herself. Cut Ribbed Ark. My arms swung as my hand connected with the first seashell, knocking it to the ground. Baby's Ear. They fell with a repetitious silence, the sandy carpet hiding all the noise from me. Channeled Duck Clam. I watch, seemingly in slow motion as few seashells began to crack. Periwinkle. I drop to the ground to join the beaten seashells, my hand curling into a fist. Button. The fist comes crashing downward pounding into the shells and the carpet below. Auger. I hear the shells shriek with fear as my fist breaks them apart. The noise at that moment like water to a starving traveller in the Sahara. Angel Wings. I look up from the mess of broken seashells at my feet. Their colorful remains were mere additions to this mess of a life that I had long since called my own.

I hadn't realized that I was crying. Not until I was wiping the tears from my cheeks with the hands that had hardly been scratched by the tiny shells. I don't know how long I had sat there, crying silently and uncontrollably, but I woke up with my head buried within my pillows. I knew that someone must have put me there due to the fact whenever I cried I wasn't able to anything but cry. I wouldn't have been able to make it to my bed on my own.

My legs, which had been tucked under the covers, had begun to curl into my chest, my head meeting them there. I thought that maybe I would be able to cry some more, but then I realized that the feeling of emptiness would allow for no more tears. The past few days had forced my life to fall apart, piece by agonizing piece. My best friend was shutting me out so that she could spend time with some boy. Another boy made me hate myself for an entire day when he was the one who was lying to me. The final straw was Alohani. His announcement that he was abandoning surfing cute deeper than I could have ever imagined something cutting me. If he goes, I'd be losing such an important part of myself that I wouldn't know what to do with the remains.

I unfurled myself from the fetal position that I seemed to be stuck in, it was pathetic and I wasn't a big fan of looking pathetic. I threw my blanket off of me and wiped at my eyes, evidence of my tears would surely still be there. I let out a groan as I swung my legs over the bed, allowing them to dangle over my bed. I took a step, intending to walk myself out of the room when I felt a something prodding at my foot.