The young boy and the Sea

The salt of the ocean on the West coast was loved by all. Nobody was immune to the scent of pure freedom, it was therapeutic in more than one way. The way that it makes you feel, when you breathe it deep into your lungs, you can almost feel the crashing of waves without even being near them. The sensation that it gives you is like none other. Peace. It brings peace to the weariest of hearts. And those that venture out to the beach and even into the depth of the arms of what can at times be both deadly and harmless, sometimes find more than they ever thought they would.

There was a boy that would wander down to the water's edge after school every day. He came there for years, without fail. In the Summer he would spend morning, noon and night wandering the shores of the sea. So much so that the ocean started to take notice. The young boy would talk to the ocean, pouring out his heart, telling it all of his deepest troubles and pain. The ocean listened every time, and it wondered why other people would hurt somebody so young and so pleasant. The ocean became quite fond of the young boy. People all over the world would come all day every day to the ocean and do many things, swim, surf, dive. The sea had never cared much about any of them, but the little boy was a different case. He had never come to the edge of the sea to have fun and enjoy himself, he had only ever come there to escape. And the ocean felt for him.

The ocean didn't know the boy's name and it didn't need to, it still knew exactly who he was and what he felt. He looked like he was close to nine years old, the ocean thought. He would sometimes sit at the edge of the water and just look out into the horizon. The ocean would occasionally send a wave up to him to wet his feet, because it would always distract the boy from his thoughts and he would look down and smile. This made the ocean happy. Sometimes before the young boy would show up it would wash up something up on the shore for him to find, like a cool new shell. It knew he enjoyed finding those. Small things like these the ocean would do for this young boy, just to try to make him happy.

It was around when the boy was eleven years old that he came to the edge of the water with a bruise on his face. That day he told the ocean about how the other kids at school always laughed at him and teased him. Some of them would bully him and push him around. Today the biggest kid in school punched him in the face and called him the fish freak, cause of all the time he spent down at the beach. The tears started to fall down his face. The ocean felt sadness and then anger, it had never felt anger before, not nearly as bad as this. The waves started to swell up and crash down harder and harder, the wind started to blow stronger. A storm blew up and it started to rain. The ocean cried with the young boy that day. It wailed in anguish that this harmless, poor little boy would be treated so harshly at such a young innocent age. The boy left after it had started to rain a little harder and went to the orphanage where he stayed. He had told the ocean a long time ago that he had never known his parents. The ocean cried for much longer after the boy left and settled down in the middle of the night. That night the ocean vowed under the moonlight and the stars that it would protect the young boy, no matter what, it would turn it's waves to help him.

The boy continued to come to the ocean's edge for the months to come. Each time he looked more and more beat up. the kids at his school were continuing to beat him up and call him names. He had officially been nicknamed fish freak by the entire school. Every day he came he looked thinner and thinner. He told the ocean that the nuns at the orphanage had been keeping food from him, telling him that if he continues to fight at school than he won't eat. He's tried to tell them that he doesn't fight at school, that he gets bullied, but they don't believe him. Every day the ocean's heart breaks for him more and more.

One fateful day the young boy came running around the corner he usually walked around. The ocean was curious about why he was rushing to get there, he usually took his time. But as three other older boys came running around the corner right behind him the ocean knew something was wrong and immediately became worried. The boys that were chasing him were bigger and stronger than him and quickly overtook him. They tripped him and two of them grabbed each of his arms and held him up. The biggest one walked up to him slowly, and began to punch him in the face. The ocean started to swell up with rage. As the bully began beating the innocent young boy the ocean began to blow up a storm. The storm came quick, with each punch the waves swelled higher and higher, with each sob from the boy the storm grew darker. The wind grew to a howl and the lightning started to strike. The rage of the ocean could not be described with words. The ocean was focused on the bully, still beating the life out out of its friend, its only friend. The bully was rearing his fist back for another punch, the boy's head hung limply but they didn't plan on stopping anytime soon. As soon as he was going to throw his punch, lightning struck right behind him, so close that he could feel the heat of it. He jumped and started running right back where he had come from, the other two were shortly behind him, lightning striking right behind them, nipping at their heels.

The bullies chased away, the ocean turned its attention back towards the boy. He lay on the ground in a small puddle of blood, motionless. The storm quit as quickly as it had began. The water was flat calm, the sky started to clear, allowing the setting sun to shine it's light on the body of the young boy. His eyes blinked slowly in the light of the sun, basking in it's warmth. He knew that he didn't have much more time. The beating he took would have been difficult for anyone to survive. The ocean was filled with sorrow. It sent it's waves up to the boy, slowly, slightly splashing at the open wounds on his face trying to help him feel better. In the last few moments the boy had, in his last breaths he whispered his last words to the ocean. "Thank you for being my friend." His heart stopped beating and his lifeless eyes stared out across the horizon. If the ocean could wail and scream and cry it would, its only friend, the only one that talked to it every single day was gone, his life cruelly ripped away from him. He deserved more than that. And in that moment the ocean decided that it wasn't going to just let him lie there. The waves slowly rolled up to the young boy and started to drift him out to sea. Carrying him gently the ocean sent him a few miles out into its waters, embracing his only friend for the first time, wishing that it could have been different, that he could have been alive. The ocean let him go then. He drifted away and started to sink down to the bottom

The young boy sat at the bottom of the ocean. The ocean wished and prayed that it could have its friend back, it didn't know what to do, it didn't know what to feel. The ocean prayed and prayed and prayed that the boy could somehow be returned to it that it might have it's friend once more, and it was about to give up. But then a miracle happened. Something that had never happened before and would probably never happen again. The boy blinked. His heart started beating again. He breathed in and water filled his lungs, but he didn't drown. He seemed to be able to breathe the water like air. He was alive. The ocean was overjoyed. Not only was his friend alive but he was a part of the ocean now. The two of them could be together forever. The young boy got up and looked around. First he smiled, then he laughed. He started running along the ocean bed, feeling more free than he had ever felt before. He ran and swam with the fish of the sea. Nothing bothered him. He looked above him and a swarm of sharks was swimming above him. One of them swam down to him, he reached his hand out and it put its nose against it, nuzzling it like a dog might. The young boy knew that other humans hated the sharks but he had always loved them. The shark swam away, back up to its friends. The young boy was the happiest he could be. He was never going to go back to the human world. There was nothing for him there. He was going to spend the rest of his days exploring the ocean, and deep down he knew that the ocean was gonna take care of him.