Back to the Sea

02 | sea friends

BACK IN JERSEY, there was always work to be done.

With a red ink to-do list screaming at Sophie from the fridge, each day was a reminder of the chaos that existed even within the walls of her little apartment. Dirty dishes rotted away in the sink, her laptop was overheating with unfinished lesson plans, towers of Judah's unread novels cluttered up the living room. She couldn't even navigate her own mind without tripping over something.

Yet somehow, there was something comforting about the chaos. Sophie could at least find safety in the routine of it all, the consistency of it all. She liked waking up knowing that the to-do list would be there on the fridge, instructing her every move so that she wouldn't have the time or energy to formulate a single original thought.

But the aunties' house was different. Much different.

At the aunties' house, where the air was clear, Sophie's mind was too. There, where she spent her afternoons lounging with Terry Emo's gardenias, it seemed, all there was to do in her spare time was to think. Even if she tried to offer a helping hand with household chores, Terry and Jia sent her away saying something about her "needing rest."

Sometimes, she appreciated it. But other times—like when she caught Dawn or Judah setting the table or picking weeds or doing the laundry—resting made her throat itch.

The family thought she was made of glass.

Still, despite her feelings of uselessness, Sophie was in no mood to stand up to either of the household women. It was a two-against-one game that she was destined to lose.

So instead, she found solitude in exploration within the walls. She liked to play with Jia Emo's strange collectible items and ask questions about them, or stare deeply at the dusty photos and faces hanging from the colorful walls. She liked watching the world from the bay window, seeing cats cross the street, and the late afternoon bike riders. While the sun was up, it was all so peaceful. It was a picturesque life in a picturesque house in a picturesque town—maybe she was wrong for feeling purposeless.

But when the evening came, the peace that she had so carefully crafted during the day melted away. There was a restlessness in her body that could only be unleashed through dreams.

The night brought sweet, delicate dreams to Sophie, dreams of soft paper memory and the sugar-coated faces of her parents. They would squeeze her in powdered stardust and grab her hands, taking her on a hazy adventure that never seemed to last longer than a late night commercial break. Because each time, before she could realize that everything was a little too perfect, the claws of consciousness would pull her out of dreamland, and the heaviness of reality would force her eyes back open. And all Sophie could do was sit up in the darkness of her bedroom and face that reality.

—

Sophie's heart was racing as she woke.

She sat slowly, rubbing the sleep from her lashes, and glanced at the clock. It was well past noon. The soft scent of leftover pasta crawled into the room, and music from the radio downstairs drifted through the crack beneath her door. It seemed the house had started its day long before she had.

Her bedroom was covered in blue. She usually liked leaving the dark curtains closed in the evening, because it allowed for soft, baby blue hues to whisper across the walls when the sun came back out. It made her warm inside.

But today, it was a little too warm. Her body was hot beneath the blankets and her arms were dented in strange shapes from sleep.

Bad dream.

Sophie closed her eyes and pulled her hair up, hoping the air would soothe her burning skin, and dry the thin layer of perspiration on her neck. Breathe, she told herself. Her heart thumped quietly in her chest. Just breathe. She rubbed her eyes again, turning to the dark wooden nightstand. She had left a glass of water the previous night. She could've sworn her thudding heart caused the water to ripple. After a moment, she cupped the glass with two hands and downed it completely, inhaling sharply through her nose as the water splashed through her aching, burning body.