The Beach

Just a random scene from my head

I sit on the black sand hills of the beach. I can't quite remember it's name. Silly ain't it? Well anyway, why exactly am I here? I'm scared to go near the ocean, the air around me is freezing and no one is here. Oh that's right, my parents are arguing again, just like old times. It's become a normal thing, but this time, we're supposed to be on holiday at our second home near this beach. It's stupid. I'm their only child and I'm glad, if they had another kid, the kid would be scared and that would mean I would have to take care of myself and the kid. Selfish. They normally never argue on trips, or try not to, for my sake. I don't understand why they're still together. I let out a sigh. I look out to the dark waves, they're calm, like nothing is wrong. The full moon's reflection shines in the waves, all distorted, and it's light illuminating my surroundings. If only every night were like this. I take off my jersey and lay it on the sand behind me. I rest my head on it and face the starry sky. The wind blows but its nothing, I feel cold, yes, maybe even numb, but its nothing.  "Oi!" I hear someone yell. Wow, so much for being alone. I sit up and look around. I see a shadowed figure jogging towards me. I squint to get a better view. I stand up, leaving my jersey covered with sand. "Are you okay?!" They yell again. What? I'm fine. Since I'm not the sort to yell, I say nothing and wait for the person to reach me. "Are you okay?" They, he, asks in between pants. "Yeah, I'm fine." I reply. "What're you doing here?" I ask back. "Good. Oh, I was just going for a walk, until I saw you. What about you? What are you doing here?" He stops panting and looks at me. "I, uh, was just lying down." Looking down at the sand covered jersey, then back at him. "Oh, okay, I thought something had happened to you, like you were injured," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well nothing did. So I guess you'll be on your way?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you cold?" He replies, ignoring my question. He pulls his hoodie off over his head and holds it out to me. I step back, shaking my head. "No thanks, I'm fine." He reaches out and touches my arm. "You are not fine." He says as I quickly step back, frowning. "Please don't touch me." I say defensively. "Are you going to leave?" He asks me. I look to the light in the distance, then back at the guy. I shake my head and sit down on my sandy jersey. I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them. For a moment all I hear and see  is the ocean lapping against each other and the sound it makes. "Is that your house back there?" The guy asks. I look up to him, he sits down, and I look back out to the ocean. "Yeah." I reply. "Why aren't you back there then? Why are you outside freezing to death?" He asks. Questions. So many questions. I let out a sigh. "Do you really care?" I ask and turn my whole body to face him. I cross my legs and rub my arms for heat. He blankly stares at me for a moment. "Well, since we're never going to meet again, sure, why not?" He replies with a grin. Is he serious? "Well. Okay then. My parents are fighting, like always. I'm outside, far away from them so they won't hurt me. Simple as that." His grin fades and he looks away from me, to the sea. "Come on," he says and grabs my wrist, pulling me up to my feet. "What are you doing?!" I yell, trying to pull my wrist free. "I said come on!" He yells back, but this time with something in his voice. He starts walking and sliding down the sand hills, tugging me along with him. It takes me awhile to realise where he's taking me. I suddenly stop, he keeps walking, or stomping, and I fall onto my knees. He then starts dragging me until I get back to my feet. "Stop!" I yell. He keeps going and it gets nearer. "Please! I'm begging! For the love of God, stop!" I beg, trying to pull my wrist free. All he does is tighten his grip. He suddenly stops a few metres away from the edge of the ocean, where it washes on and off land. Fear starts to make its home in my body. "No, please, please, please! Don't!" I beg. I try to pull him back away from the sea, but fail miserably. "Don't?" He asks, monotone, only briefly looking back at me before slowly walking onwards. "Don't take me in there!" I yell. "In where? The water?" He asks again, in the same tone, still walking. "Yes!" I start to scratch his arm and hand. He does't react. He reaches the water and takes a step in, then another, another, and another, until I'm waist deep in the water. I grab his arm with my free hand and cling onto him. I don't even know him. I don't care. I'm scared, frightened to my core. The ice cold water soaks me to the bone, drains the remaining heat out of my body and tries to tug me along with it, into the openess. However, the guy I cling to doesn't seem affected by this. He just stands there, looking out into the open, still holding his grip on me. I don't struggle this time, I don't want to drown or get washed away. He turns around, pulling out of my grip. I quickly grab his soaked jersey and pull myself into his chest. As mortifying as it is, I have to. "Please let go," he says quietly. I shake my head. He lets go of my wrist, the cold water makes it feel warm, then grabs my hand clinging onto his shirt, then pulls it off. A wave pushes me and I lose my balance, slipping backwards. My eyes widen and my stomach drops. I try to reach out for him but all he does is blankly stare back at me. The sea envelopes me and everything is heavy. "Help," is what I want to say, scream, but I can't. Air leaves me and I can't hold my breath for long. A thick lump forms in my throat, the back of my head starts pounding and everything is blurring. The end. Or so I thought. I open my eyes and I'm on the couch back at our house. The false light above me is too bright and I turn my head to the side. "She's awake!" I hear a familiar voice squeal, my Mother. "Are you alright, deary?" Another familiar voice, Father. I make a sound of reassurance. I try to sit up, coughing up water on the way. I look at my parents then something catches my eye from behind them. It's him. I think. Before I can call out to him, he's gone. "Honey?" My mother quietly asks and follows my gaze. "Huh?" I shake my head and look back at her. I smile. "Are you alright?" My Father asks. "Mhm," I nod my head and put on my best smile. I get up off the couch and head for the door. My body still feels icky with sand and sea water. "Darling?" My Mother calls. I look back at them when I reach the open door. Smile. I turn back around and walk outside. Quickly scanning the area. Where is he? Where? I see someone walking away. I jog a few steps before running out of breath.  What happened to me? Gathering up all my confidence, I yell out. "Wait!" The figure stops and turns around. "Come back!" I yell at them, him. He doesn't. He just stands there and waves his arm at me. I fall to my knees. Tears want to come out, but I don't them. Why am I like this over some guy? One I don't know either. Something touches my shoulder, "honey, it's time to go back." I turn my head to see my Mother. I shake my head. "I don't want to," I mumble. I bury my face in my hands. Why? Why am I like this?! He's nothing! He let me die. What an obvious lie. My Mother kneels next to me on the sand and wraps her arms around me. We stay there in silence, for who knows how long. The next thing I know, I wake up in my bed. I jolt upright. Was everything a dream? Did I drown? Did I really meet him. I slip out of bed, put on my fuzzy slippers and look in the mirror. I'm wearing my pink PJ's. My hair is, was, done up in a loose bun. Hmm. I walk out of my room and hear my parents quietly laughing. Wow, that never happens. I sneakily walk into the sitting room. They turn around and wave me over. I walk over, a bit uneasy. They pat the couch, there's a space in between them, I sit down. They both hug, squish, me from either side. I can't help but smile. Father changes the channel to the news. "Police have apprehended the teen killer." My smile drops as soon I see the picture of the culprit. "The teen was found wandering the beaches of Kawhia this morning." It's him. The boy I met on the beach. "He confessed to murdering both his parents and his younger sister." I can't believe what I'm hearing. So it wasn't a dream? Everything that happened yesterday, happened? I stare at the TV screen. "Now for tomorrows weather." Father changes the channel. "Wow, he seemed like a nice guy too." He says. "What? You met him?" I ask. "Well sure, he was the one who brought you back here, he also gave you CPR, which I was totally against." Father says, frowning near the end. "He saved me?" I can feel tears about to come. "Darn right he did!" Father continues. I smile, despite the urge to cry. He saved me. The so-called teen murderer saved me. Now he's off to jail. He was right, we never are going to meet again.

Author's Note

This is just a story. Its finished (first time). so yeah.