Morituro

Blue

They say that blue represents depth, stability and strength.

The ocean is blue and it's probably the most stability I've had in my life of 16 years.

There is one childhood memory that's engraved in the deepest parts of my mind. All I remember was the sound of the ocean and the ear deafening screech of my mother ,as she tried to swim after me .As I drifted further and further away, taken by the ocean. The current pulling me , gripping me as if it owned me. And it did. It felt as if I was sold to the ocean as if I have been enslaved by the gracefulness of the sea. The ocean took me. I no longer belonged to myself , it had my life and could do what it wanted with it.

The crazy thing isn't that I survived but rather that I still go back to the ocean , I still love it. It's like Stockholm syndrome .Why should you run away from something that gives you so much happiness, peace, pleasure? It's one of the things in life that I know will be there when I wake up. I know I can count on. Unlike a lot of people I have in my life. For instance my mother who is now traveling around somewhere on this planet , somewhere away from me. I was never close with her really , she didn't even raise me . I raised myself she just provided the food but didn't even do a good job about it.

I broke out of my reverie just as Mr. Daniels, my social worker returns and sits back behind his large oak desk with a pile of papers and a stern expression on his middle aged face.

"Well Kei, it looks like we found him .  He wants you to live with him."
My eyes almost pop out of my head.
"Y-you mean my d-dad?" I asked nervously unsure if this was all a dream.

Honestly, it really could be . Ever since I could remember I always dreamt of meeting my father. The man who gave me so many of my features , and traits that my mother definetly didn't give me . Caramel-brown hair, wild green eyes. 

I never met my father before ,but I knew about him. I always thought the reason why he left was because he couldn't take care of me . Even though that's not a good enough excuse, it didn't seem to be the case. A day before my twelve birthday , I found out that he was a big shot business man living in some faraway place. He was rich. Stinking rich. I am his daughter ,who went most nights to sleep with an empty stomach, worrying about wether or not my mother was coming home the following day.

"It's for the best." Mr. D fiddles with some papers on his desk.
"How so ?" I snap leaning forward as a challenge.

He shakes his head at my pitying attempt. I twist my silky, sun-kissed hair around my finger, unconsciously and retreat backwards. Mr. D has this  way about him. He's strict , has no empathy . He reminds me of me. He has that kind of take it or leave it attitude. Again just like me. A worthy opponent.

"I think you'll want to live with him. You love the ocean, don't you ?" Once again fiddling with some more papers, seemingly uninterested in the whole conversation.

I snap my head up.

"Your father , Kei, he lives in the Bahamas."

I just about fall out of my chair as the meaning of those words begin to sink  in.

"So,this means I'm going to the Bahamas." I reply hesitantly but my mood instantly brightening.

" This means that you'll be living in the Bahamas." Mr. D corrects me. This time looking me directly in the eyes, as if he actually feels glad for me.

***
Within two days papers were filled in, my bags were packed and right now I'm being ushered through the airport.

I roll my eyes for the 15th time this hour ,as the pint sized flight attendant tells me to hurry along. As we walk on the sizzling tarmac ,I realize that I'm probably going to be the only passenger on the little jet plane in front of me. I get led in by "not so fun-size". I take my seat on a velvety chair. The new smell difficult not to notice.The attendant begins to offer me refreshments after the plane lifts off- which was quite the experience since I've never been on a plane let alone a private jet.

"No, I really shouldn't." I say feeling nervous for once this day, as I remember I don't have any money on me.

"Well, I do insist Miss. Grimaldi. Everything has been paid for." She smiles too sweetly .

"Well then I'll have the coconut water. Oh yeah, never ever call me by the name Grimaldi. My surname is wilder. Don't get it twisted." I say in a harsh tone mustering up as much attitude as I possibly could, but fatigue gets the better of me. I sound less aggressive and more I haven't slept for a week.

Short stock walks away muttering something under her breath ,but I'm too tired to come up with a comeback. I give in to the exhaustion and slink back into my warm, soft seat .Everything goes dark as my eyes fall closed and sleep becomes inevitable.