⫸Ocean's Soliloquy⫷

Chapter 5

Layla pulled herself back into bed, shivering. Her feet were numb and wet, but soon warmed being under the blankets, snuggled close like a hibernating bear. Her mind was full of pictures of that creature, or what she called the mermaid. She felt sad and lost, knowing she'll never see it again, she really wanted to try communicate with them. But knowing her luck, that will never happen.

She dozed off after much time, contemplating thoughts, but then, she woke to the beaming lights of the sun through her closed curtains and a loud shaken banging at her door. She hid under her blankets, hearing the door crash open, her steaming raging father stormed to her bed.
"You went out last night, didn't you? Again?"
"I only saw something-" Layla held the edge of the fabric close to her face.
"And you left without telling me? Because you saw some stone as usual?" He showed no compassion in his eyes, his face spoke only rage and hate. "Get out!" He threw his hand at the side of her head, pulling a fist of her hair with him. She didn't shriek, knowing it would only make him more furious. "You're filthy! Take a shower!"
"But there's no soap," she managed to peep, on the verge of tears.
"I don't care! Use the hotel's!" He pulled the duvet off her bed, and she didn't dare protest, running to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. She didn't want to shower at all, but there was no choice, he always knows.

The water didn't feel so bad without the soap, she preferred it that way, as her eyes didn't burn when she tried to look up.
She squeezed her eyes shut and turned off the shower, feeling cold and her toes were in agony. She quickly stepped out and groped for the towel, feeling it at last under her fingers. The towel was surprisingly warm, as everything else in this hotel room was freezing cold, almost as if the heating was turned off on purpose, she thought.
Her mind jumped around, luckily to positive thoughts, about the sea, and she grew excited to go out again, even though it was with her father; he couldn't do anything in public, so she felt safer. She averted her eyes to a new baby blue dress on the towel bar-

She slipped her fresh dress onto her body, zipping it up and opened the door with a slightly shaken hand, almost as if it was being brutally shaken by a creature. She told herself it was just the cold.
She was forever grateful her father was busy changing, she took this opportunity to run to the kitchen and pull open the cupboard by the floor, reaching into a random box of colourful cereal and stuffing it into her mouth. Her stomach thanked her and she quickly closed it, brushing her hands down her dress before running out, unfortunately, greeting her father. Her heart fell and she looked away quickly, the eye contact painful.
"What were you doing in there?" He asked sternly, the surprisingly relaxed tone made Layla stand back against the wall.
"Looking at what the kitchen was like."  She saw her father walk closer, and a troubled feeling emerged inside her stomach. He grasped her arm suddenly and pulled her along to follow him, his other hand opening the door.
"Go! Walk ahead!" He yelled sharply. Layla scowled to herself and quickly dashed a few paces ahead, her arm sore. 

She always thought to herself why he treated her this way, or if she just generally did everything wrong to make him angry. But she didn't think on it now, as she felt her father's eyes hitting her, his presence colder than the ocean at night. She wasn't too uncomfortable, as she is used to it.

Layla stepped behind her father, wanting to follow, and he only walked faster which irritated the girl, but she would rather be aggravated than it be the other way around. The concrete was hot, and the roads were buzzing with cars and tour buses, the houses almost white due to the sun's glow. She loved the scenery, but one thought constantly wouldn't leave her mind:
What was the mermaid doing?
She smiled to herself, picturing her playing with the fish or lying on rocks and brushing her hair with a coral brush. Layla's happy thoughts withered away as she saw her father stare at her suddenly.
"You wait here. I'm going into the shop across the street to buy a drink." He slinked off, back hunched as he jaywalked across the busy road, earning a few honks from the cars. She felt embarrassed, slumping down against the beach wall. 

What are we even doing today?
Layla hugged her knees, praying for the beach again. Each second seemed like two, and three, and time dragged on further. She grew cold and her arms were like a reptile's.
She stood up, leaning over the wall which separated the beach from the urban area. Her eyes admired the water, the patterns in the seafoam never got old, as it was constantly changing. 
She yawned, stretching her arms and looked back at the store her father was in, unknowingly dooming herself to his arrival; he stepped out and walked towards her across the street again. His eyes still cold. 
"Come on." He gestured a hand his way, expressionless, almost speedwalking across the concrete. She struggled to keep up, and was already exhausted from lack of sleep. This was a true hell; being forced to go to places she didn't feel safe in, and never even eating the luxury food her father bought from the seaside shops they constantly passed.

Layla sat opposite her father on a cafe bench, which thankfully had a perfect view of the sea. She felt light, wishing she could magically be there and away from the cities of everyday life. Her stomach churned, feeling as if it was going to collapse in on itself. She was starving.
She didn't dare ask her father, so she waited until he had the feeling to give her a small portion of fries.
She rested her head in the crook of her elbow, staring off into the blue and it's waves. They watched her as she watched them, fraying back and forth in its perfect rhythm.