The Call of the Sea

Part One| Contrast.

My name is Maria, and I am 14 years old. I love eating my grandmother's spiced saucy prawn pies, and my favourite colour is greenish blue. I study hard at school, and I hope to become a teacher one day.

I am currently sitting on a large rock by the sandy shore of the sea. I stretch my feet out farther into the cool water, looking at the white bubbly foam and feeling the waves sloshing around my toes.

I listen to the monotonous sound of the water, the waves crashing one after the other, sure and steady. I feel the sea breeze on my face, tickling me a little.

The sky is so beautiful. It is like a splash of colour thrown against a blank canvas. Red, purple, pink, orange and yellow, tinted with a tinge of dark blue. The last signs of the day's sun. They are just spread through randomly, and yet, it feels like it is one colour, ranging through all the different shades.

The colours of the sky reflect onto the sea. The overall image produces a strong feeling in my heart. A dizzy wave of euphoria passes through me, and I feel happy. Happier than I ever thought a human could feel. Just sitting out here by the sea.

Seeing something so beautiful, so precious, I find it hard to believe that this is just another random sunset here. It is what one sees everyday.

I have gone through this experience a million times, but it will never cease to have an effect on me.

Not that I'm complaining or anything like that.

I take my hair out of its loose messy bun and let it fly with the wind. I can hear the distinct sound of seagulls high up in the sky, like the mewing of a hundred cats in distress.

I let out a sigh of satisfaction. The atmosphere has never felt more perfect. It is calm and soothing, lulling comforting hushes and gently singing its sweet song.

It is so hard to believe that this gentle friendly sea, had been the same sea that had caused the terrible terrible disaster that killed millions of lives and homes and people.

That sea had not been gentle and comforting. It had been rough and black and loud. It had been detestably cruel, and mercilessly destructive.

The tsunami that took place on the 25th of December, 2004 changed my life.

Yeah, it totally changed my life.

It took away my parents, my friends, my school, my home. It took away everything that was familiar to me. It took away everything I considered to be 'home'. Everything that I thought I would be a part of forever, whether I liked it or not.

I don't know how, and I don't know why, but my two brothers and I survived. I was 6, my older brother was 10 and my younger brother was just 2, he was just a baby.

That was how we left the busy cities and bustling roads, to live with our grandparents in their rural settlement by the sea.

At first I had thought it was stupid. I had been angry and traumatized. I had ranted on about how foolish it was for someone to live by the sea, the cruel dangerous hateful sea, when it could cause so much destruction.

I refused to stay with my grandparents. I screamed and cried and demanded for them to take me back home.

But then, as the years rolled past, I realized that the sea here, is different. I know, it is the same sea, but it feels different.

It is ironic, I know, but this sea that wrecked my life, is the only thing that is helping me heal.

I find in it a friend, a companion, that is impossible to find in a human. I find in it an open ear, a caressing hand.

The sea is something that is, now, very close to my heart.

And I know you're going to think I'm silly, but I have a feeling deep inside my heart, that the sea is trying to tell me something.

I feel like it's calling out to me. When I am at school, or at home, I can hear the waves crashing. My friends tell me that it's because I'm just longing to see the sea again.

But I know that it's not just me. Every instinct, every gut feeling is telling me that the sea is calling out, asking for me.

Honestly, sometimes it gets a little scary.

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I snap out of my daydream as I realize that the darkness is rapidly closing in. The stars are coming out, one by one, and I stand up reluctantly.

I bid goodbye to the sea, and it returns the gesture with its majestic waves.

I smile and turn away to head home. My grandmother must be wondering if I've been taken by a mugger or something.

I walk faster, ready for a hot dinner and a cozy bed.

As I go, I hear the voice again. The sea.

Crying out.

It sounded desperate.

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