My Dearest Eva (#PlanetOrPlastic)

My Dearest Eva

My Dearest Eva,

Today, I visited you again. I want to go inside the ocean, swim freely, but I can't bring myself to it.

It might make me think about you again. 

I know. It was a mistake to let you out. 

I learned it the hard way. 

I was sure you'd be free.

----

I sighed. Pushing my chair back, I stood up.

'Doesn't it hurt, Marta?' My negative side of me sprang up, enveloping me in such memories I couldn't bear to remember anymore.

Eva. Our light that swarms our family.

"Honey, come downstairs. Your grandpa's going snorkeling again."

Resentfully, I dragged myself downstairs with my journal; not bothering to rub in some sunblock onto my skin. I stared the empty glass cage that occupied our living room.

"Marta!"

"I'm coming, mom."

I sat beside my parents, watching Grandpa put on his snorkeling gear and take off into the ocean. This was the clean side; the dirty, disgusting side was a few hundred meters away. It was a matter of time before that side took over this part of the ocean, too.

Opening up my journal, I let myself lost in thoughts of Eva again.

Quite an intelligent turtle, she was.

I remember bringing you home, Eva.

"Mom, there's a baby turtle stuck between the rocks," I had said, pointing at a tiny creature, struggling to move.

"Pick it up and place it near the sea," Mom had replied.

Oh, but the little thing had lost a leg. Without being able to swim much, Eva was officially part of our family.

But after a few months...

"Look! She can swim so fast!"

Eva grew day by day, not hesitating to poke her head out to let us touch her. She would escape the tank sometimes, snuggle against Papa, and bite his trouser.

Soon, she grew so big, even the largest tank we could find wouldn't fit her.

"We need to free her to the ocean," Mom had advised, warning that Eva would stress to death if she didn't have more space soon. I happily obliged, wanting only the best for my dearest Eva.

Stay safe.

Eva stayed on the beachside for four full days, not knowing what to do.

And then one day, she dove to the ocean. I had hoped she wouldn't swim to the disgusting side of the ocean.

I had thought something would happen after that to snuff out my bittersweetness of letting her go.

Nothing.

It wasn't until a few months later when Eva came back.

Oh, when Eva came back, she wasn't alive anymore. She simply washed up on shore.

Plastics bits, those stupid plastics, came out from under your shell, came out from your ripped belly, came out from that gash where you lost your leg.

You left, Eva, and forgot to tell my heart, how to go on with learning the fact that you never got to swim freely.

My Dearest Eva,

I hope you don't see those plastics up there.