A Day at the Beach

Here is my contribution to a theme: a day at the beach. Enjoy.

I really did trust my friends when I told them about the argument my parents and I had a few days ago. When you consider someone a “friend,” you expect them to guard your unmentionables—your secrets, your abnormal feelings. People who care about you do that, right?

Guess nobody cares, then. All my parents do is argue as of late. The subject doesn’t matter; they’ll go at it over who put the milk on the bottom shelf in the refrigerator. Ridiculous. Mostly the fights have been about them plain not getting along; never mind that I have to fend for myself in the meantime, whether they are home or out at work. I think work is the only refuge for either of them—they’re far away from each other, and don’t have to worry about the other when other matters need handling. It’s kind of hard to believe my dad’s a nurse and my mom helps run a recycling facility. They have such clean jobs to cover up the dirtiness inside themselves.

Not that I’m perfect. As I sit here on Tismo Beach, overlooking the crashing waves, I didn’t tell anyone. I disappeared, basically. Mom will be madder than Dad will; she likes to blame things on everyone but herself. You’re such a bad child; you’re doing this just to piss me off! No, I’m sitting here because you give off vibes worse than a hungry dinosaur. A hungry dinosaur would give off bad vibes, I suppose.

I came alone. My friends – all whopping two of them – heard me out about the arguments. We hang out a lot, like at school and the library for projects. Sometimes for recreation. What did they do when I finished complaining about the anger, the noise, the violence I was sure would follow?

The waves beat higher, under a pale gray sky that might offer rain.

Rain would be nice right now, water plinking against water with all the peace in the world. It’s so associated with pain and sadness, but did anyone ever consider that it’s God’s watering can more often than not? I like to think I’d get picked back up once He needed a refill and get sprinkled somewhere else. Somewhere nice, with wide open fields and plenty of rain. And a beach somewhere close.

My friends laughed at me. What the hell was so funny escapes me. One of them said just run away—that’ll fix everything! Then he said nobody really fights that much around here enough that you would cry—Like your parents are some kind of jerks. They’re some of the nicest people in town; you’re going through that phase everyone thinks we get. Only you’re actually going through it. You know, that angsty attitude teens adopt? It’s real, and that’s just it. He’s a few years older than me, and thinks himself qualified to judge what I am experiencing.

My other friend, she agreed with him and added this little gem: You’re seventeen now. You have to learn to fend for yourself at some point.

Gray clouds start moving in as I glance up, hair threatening to whip my eyes. I guess it will rain on the beach. Most would be disappointed.

I have considered my options and thrown them up to God for opinions. I could run away – but where would I go? – I could hide out in a cardboard box, or under a pier, or…

A tear drains from my eye, just like the rain I expect to fall. I grip my knees.

Well, God, it’s you, me, and the beach. People failed me—surprise, surprise. Help me control my emotions—if I can’t do it despite, forgive me.

The water chops at itself wildly now, as the clouds deepen in color. There is a patch of water starting to rise up to the clouds, thickening to a wall twisting about it. It is a fascinating display every time I see it: a force of nature darkening into nothing short of a monster. As I watch it funnel now, I am in awe.

That wind beating at me now! The sprinklings of liquid kissing my head! I guess I don’t have to feel so bad anymore. A hurricane rising up from nowhere will snuff out the problems. It’ll wipe them away, naturally. Nobody can scream or laugh at me now. They’ll be too busy fleeing for that, or just too scared. As the mighty storm rises and grows, a drizzle starts. It is moving toward land, toward me; landfall won’t take much longer.

It’s a nice day to be at the beach.

God help me, and forgive me.

Computer Blue