Ghost of the Ocean

The sound of waves crashing roughly against the shore echoes in my ears as I walk barefoot along the cold and soothing sand. I can barely see the whites of the waves as they rise out of the ocean to steal from the shore, in return leaving clear jelly fish, ranging from sizes as big as your skull to the size of your palm, beached on the sand. Seashells are exchanged over and over again, the sea and the shore battling for more with each wave.

The wind rushes around me and scatters my hair and my thoughts, twisting and tangling them both. It is almost as if the sea and the wind have become one, and I have become the wind and the sea. My mind tosses and turns, never seeming to stop. Naturally, this should be unnerving, but instead I am relaxed as my mind sifts through memories and ideas.

An endless darkness has settled upon everything around me. The clouds have also descended from above, to cover the world in a white cloak, hiding from me the little mysteries of the twilight world. Only a few soft rays from the fading sun seem to make it through. Thankfully, those few simple rays let me see where to place my feet. I feel peacefully lost, both physically and mentally, as I wander about in the haze.

Unexpectedly, I see dark grey silhouettes in the distance moving towards me. There is no telling who it could possibly be with Mother Nature’s elements mixing around me. I crouch down in the sand and feel it trickle through my fingers and coat my legs. It is dangerous to meet strangers late when you are alone. I did not expect to encounter anybody when I decided to come out for a walk. I shiver as they still make their way towards me. I do not know if it is from the cold salty air or from an odd sense of anxious fear. The beautiful and wild twilight, that my soul has longed for and cherished seems to hold impending doom in its clutches.

The figures stop just out of reach. Still being obscured from my view, I should not be completely visible to them either, yet I still feel like they can see every detail of me. I wait for the murky figures to approach, but it takes them some time, as if they are waiting for something. Finally, the two shadows emerge into my sight to reveal a boy and a girl around my age. There is nothing peculiar about two young teens walking along the beach at night. After all, that is what I am doing, but the boy and girl are both adorned as if they just fell out of a storybook of tales from long ago.

The girl has long dark red curly hair, that is a startling, yet stunning contrast to her pale white skin, and she wears a dress, the very shade of light pink that you see on some seashells, that falls all the way to her feet. Her dress is so lovely. The silky dress covers her arms, legs, and neck and is edged with ruffles. A lovely bow wraps around her waist, and pink lace covers the fabric from her neck down to the beginning of her chest where it dips into a peak. Her long dark red hair falls against the sash at her waist. Her big eyes are an endless hypnotic dark green, but there is a hint of something in them that I cannot place. She has big, unsmiling, red lips and long lashes as well. Her extremely fair alabaster skin and crimson features make her look otherworldly. Jealousy grows inside me as I inspect her. I find that there is something very familiar about her. It’s as if I have seen her somewhere before.

The boy, on the other hand, is light where she is dark. His white blonde hair is almost as white as his clothes. He wears a handsome white button down with several of the buttons undone at the top to reveal a thin, pale but well-muscled chest. The sleeves of the shirt are puffy and the cuffs of the white shirt are pinned tightly together with what looks like swirling shells. His shirt is tucked into white riding breaches that are form fitting and very dashing. In turn, his breaches are tucked into white boots, polished to pristine perfection. His face is equally as beautiful and unique as his clothing. Any woman would kill for his features. His full lips, long lashes, and a radiant smile, all of which you would think would make him look more feminine make him more masculine and glorious. To top it off, his eyes are a deep dark blue of a midnight ocean and irresistible. I find myself gazing into his endless eyes and losing myself.

They both stand as still as statues and they remain silent as they observe me. I do the same and take my time to observe them at length. When the girl is satisfied that she and I had studied each other for long enough, she says, “Come with us,” in a haunting and enchanting voice. I rise slowly to follow her orders, wanting to spend more time with these divine people. Once standing, I find that I am the exact same height as the girl, but the boy towers over me. I follow them to the edge of the water, warily, and watch as they walk into the waves.

I am about to turn and walk away, not wanting to get wet, but the exquisite boy turns back around to me to give me a fetching smile. He holds out his hand to me. I find myself grabbing his hand tightly and staring into his beautiful eyes. I feel connected to him, and I cannot say how. His presence is so overwhelming that I cannot stand to part from him just yet. His touch is gentle and as cool as the water as he leads me deeper into the ocean. The salt of the ocean stings my lips and fills my mouth, almost as if the ocean wants to get inside me. I look around for the smiling girl, but she is nowhere to be seen. I raise my eyebrows at the boy and show him my concern. Whispering into the wind and waves he says, “She is still with me,” his voice even more marvelous, emotional and haunting than the girl’s.

I now realize where I have seen that beautiful and mysterious girl before. She was me, but she was not me at the same time. How could I not have recognized the replica of myself before my eyes? But in truth, the other me seemed to know a deeper sorrow than I could imagine, a sorrow no beautiful clothes could hide.

My realization behind his simple words hypnotize me, making me unaware that one more step would lead me into the ocean depths. Swiftly and unexpectedly, he pulls me underwater. I can still see his face in the darkening water, which is peculiar. He should be blurry and almost invisible to me. Noticing that, I also finally realize the extreme pallor of his smooth skin. It is a deathly pallor. There is no way he is human or alive, and neither was my twin. It is as if she let me glimpse into my future with this strange boy, becoming what he is. I look beaten down and miserable, like a cliff being swept away by the waves.

He pulls me deeper and deeper. I struggle against him and to try to get to the surface. It is not only him that seems to push against me, but the sea itself. They both want me to lose myself to the depths and be claimed by this boy. They want me to give up my life and remain with them forever. The water turns icy and dark around me, confusing my thoughts even more so and making me panic. The salt begins to burn me as I struggle. I swim downward rapidly to escape his grasp, and then I hurriedly make my way towards what I pray is the thrashing surface so I can break through to the world above. I push my way through the currents, and I try to detach myself from the boy. My lungs burn for air so bad that I can feel my brain numbing, and I watch in fascinated horror as dark spots invade my vision. My limbs are growing so limp they are almost useless. I feel the urge to scream as I feel everything inside me begin to turn cold and die.

Suddenly, I manage to bring my head out of the water to gulp up fresh air before I am dragged below the surface again. When I surfaced for that mere moment I glimpsed the direction of the shore. I am forced down by another rough beating current. Against my instincts, I force myself to swim down farther below the currents. There, the currents no longer handle me so roughly, and I am able to make progress in my swim. Just before I think I will not make it with the simple breath that I took, I feel sand beneath my feet. I drag myself onto the shore, and with my last bit of strength, I roll myself away from the water’s edge.

When I dare to turn around, after a few moments of rest, my heart breaks at the sight. The boy stands at the water’s edge, tears streaking down from his eyes and across his grieving expression. Even though I know he was in the water with me, the only water that clings to him is that of his own creation. I can hear the ocean pound out my name in fury as he cries, vibrating across the sand into my very soul. It takes all of my will power not to run back to him, even though it’s all I want to do, I cannot die for him. I have people who need me, and I have so much more to do in life. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I call to him through my own tears that wash over my face, almost begging him to understand. Shakily, I lift myself up and force myself to walk away from him before I give into temptation and ruin my life. I race through the fog towards home, knowing that I will not see the ghost of the ocean again, until the day I die.