Sea

Sea.

Three letters. Three letters when heard shattered my heart. Three letters that bring back the worst of memories, something that marks one ´s soul. In this case, it was mine.

I haven't looked in the direction of the sea in a long time. Years I would say. I haven't touched the warm foam of the waves that embrace your feet when they are spreading out. I haven't stepped on the grainy sand that sticks to the inner side of my toe, that sticks to my clothes and long brown hair. I haven't dived into the crystalline water that contains life and reflects the sky. I haven't watched one single sunset where water could be seen, only buildings and rough infrastructures. That's what my life consists of now. Busy buildings and the smell of excessive pollution.

My childhood was mostly spent in the sea, my whole family were surfers. My dad used to be my hero. I used to look up to him when I was surfing. He won “The Huntington Beach U.S. Open of Surfing” competition. And that was my goal too until the accident happened. We used to wake up before sunrise and head to the cold morning waves that embraced us. We were different. We were clueless.

*

It was a Sunday morning, a week after my 13th birthday. We usually walk down to the sea and surf until lunchtime, but my Dad likes to head out before us. He likes that it's still slightly dark and enjoys seeing the wakening of life and the sounds of the tired dolphins as he surfs his sharp surfboard. My brothers and I go when the sun is already set because we're all lazy. There are 5 in total, me being the youngest and only girl in the family. Walter is the oldest one, he's already attaining college but he's helping out my dad since mom died. David is a junior now and he's probably the best surfer out of all my brothers, he's won several national competitions and his goal is to win the “The Huntington Beach U.S” competition too. Then there's Lucas, he's 2 years older than me and he's more of a footballer than a surfer, but he's still keeping up with our old routines.

As my brothers and I were heading out to the beach that day, the weather seemed a little off from what was predicted. Lucas decided he didn't want to go because it was too cold for him, but the truth is it's never too cold here. We're in Hawaii there's rarely rain here, but today was one of those days. Rare. Walter went over to the hut and brought mine and David's surfboard, we were already half suited up, ready for the upcoming hours of surfing.

As we climb down the grainy slightly cold sand, we notice that there's no one on the beach. No one. That's weird, the beach is usually full of people and full of laughter and colourful towels. It's my favourite part of living in such a populated area, the love we all share for the same thing. The sea. We vaguely searched for Dad in the water, but it was foggy which prevented us from seeing anything from afar. I pointed to Walter to place our stuff near Dad's towel and bags. With each step closer we spot a black lump in the middle of the ocean, a lump that moves with the softness of the waves, seeming almost like a lifeless lump. David waves it off, “It's probably a dolphin”.

I fully dress up my suit now, reaching for the water, curiosity dripping over me. What was that stationary lump? I wish it hadn't. With each closer step I took to the lifeless black lump, it started to look like a person's back. A spine that I recognize. My dad doesn't like to wear a full suit when surfing, he normally wears a large T-shirt that covers his limbs. I have no feet in the water right now, so it's quite deep and difficult to keep my head maintained on the surface. There's another lump. Another lump followed the first one, looking almost like the head and back of a human.

My dad's head.

Loose, long, soaked hair flows through the lump.

My dad's hair.

I wish I could've closed my eyes. I wish it was me instead.

A set of long legs swiftly became visible to the public now, allowing one to realize it wasn't a dolphin or a lump. It was my dead father.

I scream and shout “Dad!” “Dad!” I shake his arm and wish with the slightest of hope that he lifts his head and warns me it's a joke. But it isn't. It's not a joke, it's real, and it's happening.

I try to drag his heavy body through the water until the surface is reached. David realizes what I'm doing, and calls out my name, warning me to leave and that he'll take care of this. But I don't want to listen, I want my dad alive.

David and Walter are running through the shimmering water splashing all over it. They see what I'm pulling. Water fills their eyes, and so do mine. The three of us pull him softly out of the water. Walter turns him upside down in the laid-out towel, which makes him face us.

My dad's lifeless face is turned to us.

I close my eyes.