Through all the sunlight breaking and the pounding of the rain

Past the thunder's shouting I can feel the aching pain

His eyes shine through the clouds and begin to make me sane

How can I be losing when there's just one thing to gain

The words pouring from Jazmine Saunter's pencil failed to make any sense to her mind whatsoever. There was no one who could pull her away from this mess...everything she'd been rewarded for life was beginning to slip away. And as she sat in silence against the scorching sand of Playa Linda's beach front her murky hazel eyes stared out onto the ocean. Noontime meant crowds of people, which later on led to her finding another spot to rest. She was not about to move. She never moved for anyone. Not even for the dozens of volley ball games scattered across the shore, or the several packs of families and friends all lining up for a dip in the water. No one was an exception.

Jazmine tugged her notebook off of her lap with a gentle sigh, only to reveal her legs the color of fresh butterscotch due to the tan received over the years in California. Her knees were hidden slightly by a pair of simplistic male's shorts colored a smokey gray, her sickly-thin upper half a loose white 'Billabong' tee shirt. Not much, but who was she trying to impress? Bare feet wiggled against the sand's surface and dug a miniature hole beside an empty water bottle scattered from previous slobs of the beach.

Long, almost hip length jet black hair rustled thickly once pulled out of a loose ponytail, its color soaking up the almost painful sun. She continued to gaze in utter silence out at the waves, at a spot where she did not see anyone balancing upon one of those stupid surfboards...That's what SHE thought, anyway. Just as she was about to stand something caught her eye; a sudden change in the magnificent cerulean ocean. No longer was that certain area gleaming, but now the salty water was dull, streaked in a different color. The color she realized was the same one spewing from her finger just a few minutes ago when scraping it on a spare sea shell; the color of blood. It began to spread along the surface, and no one had yet to notice except her. Just as she was about to point the scene out to the nearest person she gasped; for above the pool of crimson came a jagged piece of painted wood...A mutilated surf board.