My Desolate Home

I ignore the sun as it rises above the skyline. No longer look at how the night sky turns from an inky blackness to a deep purple and lights up to an orangy glow of yellow and red. No wonder or delight is felt when I see it, so I keep my back turned as I lie on my side. I’ve come to hate sunrises, so my gaze continues to face the darkness and abyss that has turned into my world.

I had, in the beginning. Watch the moon disappear to allow the sun’s hello. I let myself be filled with the hope that out on the horizon, humanity was there, ready and willing to come forth and rescue me. Watched as the sun would say its goodbye and the moon’s form would blink into existence. The stars twinkled into life, an endless stream that spread across the night sky. A path was created, bringing the hope that anyone would cross my vision.

A hope as I watch plankton turn parts of the water into blue-green speckles. A hope as I looked at the reflection of the stars on the silvery water. A hope, as I kept a weather eye on the horizon for signs of any ships or convoys that would become my salvation.

A hope that slowly has turned into emptiness, with each passing moment of saying goodnight to the sun and welcoming the moon. A feeling of helplessness as the darkness crept closer. An emptiness on the night where there were no stars, or the moon, or speckled plankton. An emptiness that had stretched into an endless blackness. Where no light had any hope to break through, but just the voices of the wind. I had lain in a stillness of paralyzing fear.

I feel that night of darkness drawing closer. The howls of the wind create monstrous creatures, and the actual sea life, living underneath, their simple moments of air or swimming close to the surface, suffocate me with dread and paranoia.

I’ve never feared the moon and the ocean in such a way. They had always felt a part of me. An outward glimpse of my soul’s depth, when outside forces felt overwhelming. Nothing seemed impossible if I was able to see the moon’s face and feel the waves’ gentle touches. The sounds of waves are a constant in my memories. My mind takes me to moments where laughter and dancing were shared. Where lights twinkled against the dark sea, and the sand cushioned my body as I merrily threw myself around. I thought of my feelings of adulthood, against my doubts and insecurities; a simple stroll in the fresh ocean air allowed me to breathe and become anew. Where, under the moonlight, my dreams were birthed and secrets buried beneath the reefs. Where my strength, tested against life’s obstacles, flourished beneath the moon’s gaze. All witnessed by the ocean’s waves.

I lay until the sky has turned into an innocent bright blue and the sun’s rays make it impossible to remain immobile. I shakily stand and breathe deep until the briny air mixed with the stench of grime and sewer fills my lungs. I kneel towards the small puddle of fresh water that had mercifully been created by a surprise rainfall and take a small sip. I regretfully don't take much more, despite the thickness of salt and despair that coats my throat and tongue. The desolate rock that I find myself on offers no protection or comfort.

I ignore the sun rising higher in the sky. My eyes focus on the horizon ahead. I zero in on any sign of movement. The distribution, breaking momentarily the miasma of sorrow. The seabirds diving into the water, schools of fish creating dark shapes, and even a pod of dolphins frolicking in the sun. It has become my clutch of reality. The world hasn't stopped moving. Life is moving forward. All signs of life that have broken the silence that has fallen on me. Silence has been my close companion, and the lack of usage of my voice has brought forth a timidity within me.

Time is both irrelevant and meaningful. The ache of time wasted on frivolous matters. Where they had seemed so essential, the battle to keep them close to my chest was the sweetest form of victory. The feeling of vindication feeds my ego. The bitter sentiments where forgiveness could have been given; instead, a stony demeanor is all that remains.

Time leaves its mark. That emptiness on that dark night approaches. The sun is now in the stages of lowering in the sky. I turn and face the sun as it inches closer to the skyline. The fear and paranoia, punching the air from my lungs. My breathing comes in faster bursts, as my vision starts to blur.

Tears prick my eyes. A pang of disbelief does go through me. I didn't think there was much more water left in me to expel.

A sharp bark sound exploded around me. It took a beat to realize that it was me. An actual laugh. Once I started, I couldn't stop. Tears, pathetically falling down my cheeks, as I wheezed and chuckled.

The shape of a whale peeks through my vision. The tail is high in the sky, as I lie down and wrap my arms around my legs. I try to focus on the splash of water as it hits the surface. I hiccup a bit as my breathing slows and I listen to the whale’s bellow.

I curl into myself more, wanting the ability to press myself into the ground. I strain my ears to the hypnotic way the waves swell and feel the small sprinkles as they touch the rock.

I flinch slightly as a burst of water touches my eyes and nose. I rubbed the area, but remained curled, not wanting to change my position.

My eyes shut, I hear another bellowing sound and picture now the pod of whales making its way past my desolate home.

The waves become rougher as the large mammals swim closer. The sound becomes louder and stranger.

I cough as water hits me directly and forces its way down my throat. I finally opened my eyes and focused on the shape that had gotten closer to me.

It wasn't a pod of whales.