Into the Blue

We stared out. Its beautiful colour, waving towards us, entrancing us, drawing us closer with its pure beauty. It was greeted by a rock front-no sand-just rocks, perfect for climbing or for a mid-afternoon picnic when to tide was out. Well, that is what it was to us. Maybe compared to the finest Spanish sea side resort, packed full of tourist and salesmen, some may say its "boring"; however, I would most certainly disagree. One day we planned to sail off into those waters, Jammers and me. I promise, to the bottom of my heart and soul, that there was nothing sexual between us. Promise. No more than friends. But we needed to escape from the once glorious place which we once called home.
Jammers Smith and I grew up on one of plenty council estates on the east side of Morecambe, which was renowned for providing holidays and excitement for people from all over. However know it just isn't a pretty site. Jammers' father is a hungover and abusive, drug dealer and also accompanied by a brother who was following in his footsteps. Yeah, I'm sure you can guess why she wanted to leave. She lived alone with the two-her mother died from birth-with frequent beatings and bolockings for no apparent reason apart from their own self-enjoyment, she most likely had been put through hell and back in only 15 years. When she arrived at school, black eyes and multiple bruises, which were scattered across her small tattered body, were a regular sight. And it was so disheartening for me to see, I once tried to approach her father, in the upmost aggressive manner I could draw myself too act in. But, because I'm only 5"4, that evidently failed.
However, my case is a complete contrast and it was all down to my own deluded head. I'm 17 and I suffer from a form of eating disorder called "Anorexia Nervosa" which is where I simply can not eat a single thing without my head imploding, thoughts flying around my head of becoming obese and unattractive in an instant, of my whole life simply crumble around me. It's hard to live my desired lifestyle, as my parents refuse to let me eat as minimalistic as I can. They always try to teach me-and I quote-"to lead a healthy lifestyle" by forcing food quite literally down my throat. And for two years, three months, and six days I have dealt with it, and for the majority of that time, under my parents radar. To be frank, I could not sustain that crappy, fattening lifestyle of eating three meals a day for much longer, hence my reason for getting out.
So, we hatched our plan. Jammers was 14 years old and me only 16, we concluded the only way to deal with our unsolvable problems was to leave. To leave Morecambe. To leave our god-forsaken families. And to leave into the blue field of freedom, where no-one could locate us or bring us back. When planning, we figured that a car or bus would be appropriate, "But we would get caught by the cameras!" Jammers had repeatedly insisted to me so any form of road travel was off the table. Therefore, we thought leaving by boat was the only option. Our plan, obviously had flaws, such as physically purchasing a boat as we weren't qualified enough but we decided to figure that out on the day which we went through.
The Thursday 12th of October 2019, was the date which we tried our first and only attempt. Due to high levels of kippers in the waters this year, the amount of stranded boats, left unguarded was more than what we expected. We proceeded to untie a fishing line off a boat named "The Big Beartha" and push it into the water. But of course, our luck had been strained out, with a large northern man, came running, screaming towards us, his grey beard swinging and his fists high and clenched. We then ditched the boat, and ran in different directions, Jammers ran along the coastline, I sprinted up to the rusted stairs, back onto the shopfront.
"And that was the last time I saw her"
"Okay, Ross, you may go now"
...

"Hello, Mr Tomas Gerald Smith, we are going to ask you some questions about the recent death of Jamie Smith, your sister"