Story Shorts from When I'm Bored

Sea Spirits

The first thing you will notice about our little village is that it is incredibly weathered. Tiles are missing on most of the roofs, the paint chipped on the corner of the buildings from years of sea salt being flicked at them, the smell of brine and fish heavy on the air whenever you wander further away from the market square. Everything we own is stained by the sea. The girls come back from the beach with seaweed in their hair. Sand is in every nook and cranny of your life, and you cannot even hope to escape it. But we villagers wouldn't want it any other way.

Or most aspects of the weather anyway.

Just on the coast of Britain, we get some of the more extreme weather that comes off the sea, angry lighting storms that cut our power, severe winds that bring up dead fish and debris and leave them lying in the streets.

On the stormy days, when the waves are crashing at our front doors and windows burst open from the wind, we wait until after it has died down to go the village square to mourn those who may have been lost at sea.

On days where there is only a slight breeze, and the children are outside playing and enjoying the sunshine, and the teenagers are fishing on the piers, we adults get suspicious.

For we know the longer the calm is the more will die when the storms approach again.

"Come out and play!" the children would cry. "It's an old superstition, and we aren't scared of a little rain!" they would puff their tiny chests and stand on their tippy toes to look tall and brave. But we send them on their way to enjoy the sun while they can, while we prepare inside for the worst.

And then a long summer rolled in.

It seemed to last forever, the warmth gliding over our skin, kissing us brown in the sun. I had never seen the grass so green, the sky and the sea so blue. This paradise lasted for months, and we forgot of our superstition. We forgot what the mourning was like. All we knew now was the taste of ice cream on our lips and the feel of salt on our skin. Things we had long missed since when we were teenagers in love. We laughed with long forgotten friends, visited places we had never seen before despite being just around the corner, and we grew to love the ocean instead of fear it. New hobbies were found with our freedom, and we as a village became closer, happier.

One day, a fair came to the village. And we, lively folk we were that day, left our houses and acted like kids again. Our own children didn't need to ask to go, we asked them to come with us! Shorts, sunhats and sun cream and we were ready.

The air was humid, sticky, and briny, but we didn't notice. We ran, whooping and laughing towards the fair. We were met by bright light and the smell of fresh fish and chips, making our mouths water. Children were running in all directions and we, for the first time since the kids were born, were free to do whatever we wanted. We re-enacted our first date when we were 15, he brought us fish and chips and we sat eating them with our feet dangling off the pier. I stole some of his chips and he swatted my hand away laughing. We went to the fortune teller, who told us the same thing she did when we were teens.

"A great misfortune is ahead, but through love, you will stay strong."

We giggled at the coincidence and wondered if it was the only answer she had.

Fairground games, cotton candy, coin machines and some awkward running into of our teen daughter on her date later, the night was drawing in. But we were so awake! We couldn't go in now! And anyway, the kids didn't have school, they were old enough to be out alone. They knew how phones worked, if they needed us, call us we had told them. And so, we stayed out, and everyone around us had a similar mindset. Childish tendencies had taken over, but we didn't care. We were having fun.

We walked hand in hand to a grabbing machine with blue fluffy teddy bears in it. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he slid a coin into the machine and within a few moments, a bear was in the dispense shoot. He took it out and dramatically got down on one knee, mimicking his proposal oh so many years ago. I snickered at his idiocy and kissed him playfully. He tasted sweet and salty, like popcorn in a cinema.

But just at that moment, a huge clap of thunder reminded us why we should not be outside.

The pier rumbled under our feet.

Lightning lit up the sky.

And the wind we hadn't noticed picking up, rocked us side to side.

Screams filled the air, but not from joy. People were running n all directions, shouting for their children. We cried out for ours but there was no use. They couldn't hear us, and we couldn't hear them.

The pier groaned suddenly, and the wood started splintering under our feet. We stared at the Ferris wheel at the end of the pier, realising it was going to go over any second.

Snap!

The Ferris wheel fell into the sea, taking its riders and the surrounding area with it.

The last thing I saw was my daughter's bright green eyes as she cried out, trapped in the wheel as it plunged below the waves.

A sharp pain ran through my body and I collapsed on the breaking pier. He picked me back up onto my feet and we ran. We ran for our lives off the pier and onto land. I saw my son and scooped him up into my arms, but he struggled free and pointed.

My husband had fallen, and his leg had gotten trapped in the splintering wood. My son and I raced forward to help him, but it was too late. He smiled at me solemnly as he disappeared from my sight.

But I hadn't realised until a few moments later that my son had made it onto the pier. The remaining few planks groaned and he stopped and stared at me wildly. I ran to him but I wasn't fast enough.

The sea spirit took my whole family that night.

And it took me too.

When the storm had passed, and the village was being built again, a mass ceremony was held in the village, mourning our lost loved ones. Government officials were there with us, as the storm was so big and powerful, and the catastrophe level was incredibly high, that our quiet village made national news. But we didn't want the world knowing us for our dead. We wanted these officials who we knew didn't really care, gone from our sandy village.

After the ceremony, I went to the ruins of the pier. It was quiet.

Kids used to puff their chests out and stand on tippy toes to appear big and brave.

Teenagers used to fish and fall in love.

We laughed with forgotten friends and discovered places we had never been to before, despite them being just around the corner.

And the cold, salty ocean pierced my skin as I went to find the family it had stolen from me.