A/N: So anything in italics is from a poem called "Sea Lullaby" by Elinor Wylie. I don't know where this story came from…it just sort of came and wouldn't get out of my head…
Despite all of this, I would love to hear from you. I'm trying something little different. Anyway, it's just a one-shot, and I looked it over myself. Please forgive any errors in spelling/grammar/mechanics.
The old moon is tarnished
With smoke of the flood,
The dead leaves are varnished
With colour like blood,
The words slip into my mind and wrap around my brain, making themselves absolutely known. I realize how ironic it is as I look up at the sky to see that the moon is almost invisible, all of its luster gone. It's so dark I can only see my hands because of the boat light, but that's fine with me. I like not having to see so far ahead of me. Right now, I'd rather not delve into the unknown.
Too bad I have to.
There is no breeze tonight, and I can feel the Miami heat clinging unrelentingly to my entire body. While the heat would normally be overwhelming, it only serves to remind me of how cold I really am as I stand in my wetsuit, ready to enter the water. It's an odd feeling being so cold and so hot at the same time. Sweat slides down my back, and even though I can't see it, I know it's cutting a wet path down my skin.
What are we doing here?
A treacherous smiler
With teeth white as milk,
A savage beguiler
In sheathings of silk,
I continue getting ready as they (whoever 'they' is…I don't know) brief me once again on the danger of sharks and the ocean at night. As a child, I went through a phase where I was terrified of sharks. I couldn't even look at a shark tooth without crying. Of course, my sisters found this hilarious.
It wasn't
Despite that fear of sharks, I've always loved the water. I love diving in and feeling the pressure of it against my skin, against my wetsuit as I dive deeper, exploring places most people wouldn't dare. No, my love for the water never wavered.
Powerful. Formidable. Those words come into my head as I hear waves crash against rocks in the distance. I am quickly reminded that there's still no wind, and this only serves to prove to me that the sea is its own being and nothing controls its destiny.
No…the sea is in charge.
The sea creeps to pillage,
She leaps on her prey;
A child of the village
Was murdered today.
That's why we're here now. The sea claimed another offering…an offering given by a man named Oliver Shoger. The little boy was taken from his bed early yesterday morning, and we worked frantically to find him. Unfortunately, our best lead was a cold scent for the dogs try to follow. Obviously, that led us nowhere. Now, the little neighborhood is shaken up, everyone's lives changed completely.
Through DNA, we discovered a dirty little secret stemming from six months of bad judgment seven years ago. All of this led to the kidnapping, the drama, and a family torn apart.
No one knows how Shoger figured it out, but he snuck into the little boy's room before sunrise and took him out of there without making a sound. We caught up to Shoger (just Shoger), and from him we learned that the boy was scared and reluctant at first, but he went along as his biological father attempted to make up six and a half years of absence.
So while Shoger and the little boy enjoyed museums and amusement parks, his mother and father were sick with worry. His little siblings cried because they didn't understand what was happening with their brother.
She came up to meet him
In a smooth golden cloak,
She choked him and beat him
To death, for a joke.
Shoger calls it a joke that his son was taken from him before they had a chance to know each other, but I can't bring myself to pity him. He took that little boy from his bed. He brought the boy to the ocean, and he turned his back for two seconds.
But that was enough.
Despite living so close to the ocean, the boy had never seen it. In the seconds that Shoger's back was turned, that little boy took his first steps in the salty water, laughing as the water rushed up over his feet before a second wave knocked him over.
And I can picture the little boy, struggling to his feet, bewildered as he tries to comprehend what just happened. But as much as I hate to admit it, the water seduced him. It played gently with him for a while, little waves tumbling over him only almost knocking him over. And he thought he was safe (after all, he'd never seen the ocean before). He moved further into the water, leaping directly into the waves—something I did as a child—and letting the current carry him back towards shore.
Somehow, he got too far out, and by the time he realized he could no longer touch the ocean floor, the waves had beaten him down, just below the surface. His feet kicked wildly in the water, but they only encountered water…no land.
He was a fighter though, and his head broke the surface many times. But all he could do was let out a choked cry. Shoger, I don't know what he was doing, but Shoger missed this until the child was completely out of site. He may have run into the water to find the boy, but I don't know.
I shake this from my head. We've pinpointed about where the boy could be and it's my turn to duel the sea, searching for the little boy.
In a split second, that boy was gone. Completely out of sight.
Her bright locks were tangled,
She shouted for joy,
With one hand she strangled
A strong little boy.
From that point, it's all speculation. But I know the power of the sea. It doesn't care that he was just a little boy on his first trip to the ocean. It doesn't care that he wasn't even supposed to be there.
Instead, it beat relentlessly into him, taking his last breath of life.
With this bitter thought in my head, I dive into the water for what will most likely be a futile mission. Apparently the sea wasn't sated, and for the first time ever, I feel physically sick that I have to be here. I feel betrayed that such a close friend could so brutally murder a little boy.
But now, I have to push all other thoughts from my head and focus solely on finding that boy. And as I duel with the sea, I wonder why all of this had to happen. In response, the sea seems to whisper in my ear a chilling and heartless mantra that repeats over and over as I search the dark depths.
It wanted its sacrifice.
Now in silence she lingers
Beside him all night
To wash her long fingers
In silvery light.
My muscles ache as I stretch out on the warming sand. I still feel betrayed as I think about how we found that little boy. He was near those rocks but not alive. His little body was clearly broken and bruised, and whatever life he once held in his eyes was gone.
What made it so much worse (at least for me) is that when we found him, he could almost have passed for a kid lounging near the ocean.
And the sea? The sea acted like nothing had happened. True to its nature, splashed up on the rock over and over, lapping at the boy's lifeless feet. And he could have enjoyed it under much different circumstances.
So we took care of that little boy and notified the family.
It wasn't easy.
But the sea couldn't care. It had gotten what it wanted, and it could bask in the glow.
Now as I sit watching the sun come over the horizon, chasing the moon away, I feel as though the sea is taunting me. It reminds me who is in control.
And the thought is humbling.