It was dark, the water was refreshing.
I floated on my back, looking up at the stars.
"Tasina" I heard my name whispered across the waters.
It sounded familiar. The voice belonged to a man.
I felt cold hands grab at my sides and I was pulled under.
I began to spin and spin. I couldn't tell up from down. I only knew that these icy cold hands were holding tight to my sides.
Pulling me down, down, down.
~~~~
I woke with a start to the sound of my alarm clock.
I reached over to shut the damned thing up, but in doing so, rolled off the bed.
I huffed in aggravation, I was tired. I wasn't getting much sleep. These dreams weren't helping and neither was that damned clock.
I stood and turned it off.
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.
It was raining outside, which only made me more aggravated.
I walked into my tiny bathroom and looked in the mirror. I was a mess.
My red hair was in a mess that I just did not want to tackle.
The grey tshirt I was sleeping in only made me look worse.
It swallowed me. It came half way down my thighs and covered the soft shorts I had on.
I looked like a mess and I felt like it too.
My life was a mess.
The tiny apartment I've been hiding out in was not a mess though.
I had everything in order. Neat and organized. It was what I did with all my free time to keep from swimming.
It's all that I wanted to do. Swim.
Cliche I know, for someone who lives right by the ocean, I should be sick of it, right?
Well I am not.
I had work to worry about, books and art. I had a life to worry about. I didn't want to shrivel up into a raisin from spending all my time in the water.
Okay, well maybe I did, but that was beside the point.
Let me tell you a little about myself.
My name is Tasina Elizabeth Ave. Messy red hair, tall, skinny. Average I guess. I'm twenty years old and fresh out of two years of college.
Which, got me no where. I studied Marine Biology at a small community college. I loved it, of course.
But then my parents died in a car crash, I picked up my life and moved it here.
I live on Tybee Island, right outside of Savannah Georgia. In a tiny apartment by the marshlands.
I walk every where, because the Island is that small.
Though I do own a car. It's an old truck my Dad had.
They totaled the good car in the crash. Yes...that's how they died.
I got a call at midnight, some woman telling me my parents were not coming home.
I think that feeling will stay with me forever.
Drifting between reality and dreaming, the funeral, the move.
The sad faces and comforting hugs.
It is burned into my brain. A memory I won't forget.
Which led me here.
I left school, packed my bags and I left everything behind.
Which wasn't much.
Just my best friends. They still keep in touch. But they are happy, so I'm happy.
I spend most of my time reading, drawing, dancing or swimming. When I'm not working of course.
I work in the Marine Center. I lead groups around and teach little kids about things.
I love it.
I love my life here.
It's a fresh new start.
Or so I thought it was.