The ocean lies before the seashore, endlessly rising and falling, rising and falling. Tide after tide, the waves fold and unfold, glistening as the sunlight hits the surface and then disperses.
The youth rolls onto her belly, her exposed back covered in sand. She allows the sun to bathe her and blanket her in its warmth for a moment, before easing herself towards the sea slowly, watching the ocean waves as they continue to rise and fall before her.
As she reaches the shoreline that divides the land from the sea, she hesitates before diving directly into the water. An object before her catches her gaze. Its surface is much like that of the ocean's, only smaller and narrower.
She crawls towards the object to take a closer look, glancing over the unfamiliar item and over its entrancing exterior. She holds the end of it down, watching, mesmerized, as it attempts to chase the traveling wind, the surface rising and falling, mimicking the sea.
She rolls onto it, suppressing the object's movements. The texture of it against her body is not as smooth as the water, but not as rough as the sand. Intrigued, the youth brushes against it, feeling its surface stroke her skin. She lazily rolls over it again and again, allowing the veil to engulf her. She decides that the object behaves like a blanket, for it surrounds the youth like one. It amuses her.
When the veil latches onto her neck, she does not notice. She only rolls over it one more time, repeating the pattern she was used to; however, instead of the veil giving way to the air again, it steals her breath from her. The quietness she enjoyed suddenly becomes something worse, and without warning the feeling of euphoria dissipates and transforms into raw, jagged fear.
She struggles against the veil, jerking her head from one side to another, trying to save herself from suffocation. The object, which at first seemed harmless, now cuts into her like a blade. She wails and stumbles, the veil clinging to her bloodied skin.
The pain is unrelenting. The smell of flesh and blood fills her mind, and the youth collapses onto the coast, the coarse sand piercing her already-wounded skin.
The youth rolls onto her belly, her exposed back covered in sand. Her skin burns under the sunlight as she attempts to crawl towards the sea, watching the ocean waves as they continue to rise and fall before her.
She can hardly breathe now, and she lies there, feeble and powerless as the veil continues to smother her cries for help.
As she reaches the shoreline that divides the land from the sea, she exhales, and the action sends a ripple of pain throughout her body.
The ocean cannot provide her solace anymore.
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A common packing strap causes more than half of Alaska's Stellar sea-lion entanglements, resulting in infection and sometimes death.
There is only one reason this happens, and that is us.
