Enjoy!
Hollie xx
There is something which
completely fascinates me about the sea. I can’t decide whether it’s the
undiscovered secrets that hide beneath the foamy, frothy waves, or if it’s just
the sheer beauty of sea spraying up rocks and rippling, sparkling rolls of water.
I’ve spent the day in my
favourite place by the ocean - the Roman ruins off the coast of El Campello.
They are magnificent, engulfed by the sea and therefore drenched in its beauty.
The rooms of the historical
structure teem with lustrous, shimmering fish that dart this way and that.
Through snorkelling, I’ve uncovered a mysterious, bewitching world of dancing
seaweed, swaying shining shadows of sun beams, and exquisite spiralling shells
that house colourful crabs.
I stand on the rocky peak of
the ruin, looking out onto the glistening ocean, watching as the water surges
around me -trying to tickle my toes but unable to, due to the many rock pools
it’s rushed into. Salt spray and sea breeze twirl and twist my hair into
intricate knots which I know will take ages to detangle. The dying sun gently
kisses my cheeks, warming the air with its fading but radiating glow. I close
my eyes and breath in the fresh ocean scent, listening carefully to the
whirling waves and bubbling broth of water.
It’s quiet now, just the
natural sound of the sea as it jumps onto rocks and slides off them after. It
was noisy earlier, with children tanned like caramel diving off high walls, plunging
into the deep blue with a splash, screaming with squeaks of delight as they did
so. I prefer the quiet, it’s easier to take it all in. The crystal-clear water,
the sea mist that sparkles like diamonds, the dying sun which casts glittering
golden gleaming rays. Alone, my eyes can
wander the waves and imagine what they like with no disruption. It’s amazing
what you can imagine with lungs full of salty air.
I imagine a creature, with
hair down to her bellybutton, sliver like stars in colour. Her eyes are the
shape of the moon, her irises a murky emerald to match the seaweed and finally,
vast inky black pupils to finish. Her
lips look soft like petals, the shade of blooming coral. Her skin is pale like
white sand. And just because I can, she has a tail that twinkles like a pearl,
only it’s illuminated in colour with a jade-green hue. She sits on the ruin, on
the edge just where it stops, her eyes gazing out at the horizon. From where
I’m stood, she looks sad. Her mouth lays slightly open, and I see her chest
rising and falling with a racing pace.
I tilt my head slightly and
see in her left hand she holds a ragged piece of aquamarine. Sorry to be
stereotypical -but they are believed to be treasured by mermaids. She grips
onto it with an unforgiving force, her knuckles turning even paler.
Suddenly, she closes her
mouth, pausing her rhythm and holding her breath. She raises her precious gem
and starts sawing at her tail. Scraping the sharp edge up and down. Scales
scatter the rocks and scarlet streams from her wounds. Tears gush down her face
as a guttural gurgling scream escapes her lips. I shut my eyes and open them,
begging my creation to fizzle away. She stays where she is. The water clouds
with blood, swirling around her- the waves washing up her claret concoction.
She’s real. She’s alive.
She’s killing herself.
She saws, and she saws, and I
just stand there. Petrified at the picture I’m watching. The once beautiful,
dazzling blue waters now run red. She carries on. Splitting her skin and
cutting herself in two with a horrendous grinding sound as she carves into her
bones. Then she stops, her green scales now crimson. She’s done it.
Gingerly she puts her hands
down and starts pushing up to stand, agonising pain flashes across her face as
she cries out, throwing her head back in agony. Our eyes meet, hers pleading
for me to help. But I freeze, the view of the blood running down the rock
twisting my stomach.
Before I know what I’m doing,
my legs start moving and I run towards her. I stand by her side, helpless and
hopeless, as she continues to bleed, getting weaker and weaker. The skin she’s
cut into looks hacked and mangled. Her breathing starts to slow, so I crouch
down, gently placing my hand under her head. Her eyes are even more beautiful
up close, I can almost see the dancing seaweed in the emerald. The rock is
tuning sticky under my feet. With a struggled exhale she lays still, and then
melts through my fingertips into sea foam. The only proof of her, being the
ruby waters.
I stay frozen, in shock for
all I had witnessed.
A voice breaks my spell as I
hear “We’re back” called out to me, followed by two rhythms of skipping
footsteps. My parents stand smiling, and slightly sunburnt. I raise my head.
They still smile.
“The water” I manage to
whisper.
“Looks beautiful” replied my
mum “the clearest I’ve ever seen”.
