Her Abyss | Completed

Two

Taco night was a fail because my stomach was in knots for the entire weekend. I ate nothing and couldn't resist the urge to vomit every liquid that I'd consumed. On top of that, my little brother Noah came home from our grandparents with three new video games. That was when I realized just how thin the bedroom walls were.

My father gave me sympathetic attention until he was summoned at the warehouse. There he would discuss the best method to destroy the rainforest and the land beneath it.

To him, sacrifices such as this one had to be made and they weren't negotiable. I imagined him and his coworkers drawing blueprints of the most toxic machines to ruin the fresh unmarked soil.

By Sunday afternoon, I refused to be circumspect and held hostage to the best rest. My stomach still pained me but I crawled out of my bed and stumbled out of the patio door with Noah eagerly three steps ahead of me. The fresh air filled my lungs and I felt somewhat alive again. Without the clutter of boxes and the dim lighting of our two-story beach house, I felt as ease again.

This time around, the sand willingly caressed the areas between my toes and I tried not to get used to the filling. Because in two months I'd be off to Juilliard and enjoying the dark contrasting clouds of New York. There would be no beaches, no waves crashing against the shore and no fresh breeze that felt like a mist of ocean seawater.

As we approached the shore, several small kids were visible from the distance. They were probably my neighbors and I almost smiled at the two boys tossing buckets of water at their mother. My own mother wouldn't dare to stand barefoot on the sand unless it was for photoshoot purposes. My brother tugged on my shirt, his green eyes glistening like our father's, "Can I go play with them?"

I nodded hesitantly before he ran into the distance. His brown locks flopped up and down and I knew that if my mother saw this she would say that it was time for a hair cut. Noah loved his locks more than anything and often asked me to help him with maintenance. So when Mom was gone, I trimmed the dead ends and massaged his scalp with strawberry shampoo and conditioner.

Once I was close enough to the water, but not close enough to risk getting my shorts wet, I laid on the sand and covered my eyes with the cool surface of my forearm. It was incredibly comforting considering that my cooler body temperature hadn't quite adjusted yet.

And then I was feeling nauseous and holding my breath to prevent gagging. My head throbbed and I regretted taking Noah out at all. The sand was no longer comforting and I remembered why I refused to go on vacation with Noah and our grandparents. Because they liked the sand and amusement parks that were too loud and I preferred to play my cello late nights and early mornings. Being with them broke my routine and they took offense whenever I declined their polite offers. The Bahamas didn't interest me and neither did the beaches of California.

Yet here I was, about to vomit all over the coast.

"Hey you," A soft voice sounded in front of me.

I sat up, painfully and scanned the sandy shore for my brother who I had forgotten to keep an eye on altogether. He was fine, playing with the other children far away from the water and I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. The figure in front of me was, tan.

Her eyes stared at mine and I almost forgot that she was talking to me. A small crisp smile covered her cherry coloured lips and I frowned in return.

To my surprise, she knelt down against the sand until our eyes were leveled with one another and I wondered about the few grains of sand against her forehead. After a few seconds she parted her lips, "Just a heads up, they're about to start a game of volleyball over your body."