Weatherworn

A little story I whipped up, enjoy!

A bitter wind punished the New England seashore that afternoon, causing Sebastian to shiver in his threadbare cardigan and distressed jeans. He hadn’t expected the weather to match the temperament of his churning soul, but things hadn’t been in his favor for a long while. The waves of the ocean just four feet from him seemed to be calling his name, their choppy arms like helicopters, welcoming him into a much-needed rescue. He sighed, allowing the sea breeze to settle on his puffy eyes and create a veil of mist. Although, with much despair, he realized this veil would not be enough to hide him from the rest of the world.

She was only twenty four years old. Her smile radiated warmth and her eyes were incandescent pools of the most silvery blue he’d ever seen. With short, ash-blonde hair and a button nose, she was a tranquil dream. Only this pale, paper doll could complete him and only she could bring him rest.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. The storm inside of him raged on and on for days, weeks, months; it had been almost a year since he’d lost her. The pain and anguish in his heart assaulted him daily, his mind crumbling and crippled by her death. He just couldn’t, for the life of him, comprehend why God would pluck such a beautiful creature from the earth. He couldn’t understand why He would make the world suffer as it did now. Sebastian himself was assuredly devastated by her passing, but even the clouds heavy with snow seemed grayer than the winter before; the rocks he and his love used to sit and waste away the hours upon seemed dull.

If he closed his eyes and listened intently, he could almost hear her laughing. A sweet giggle pierced his ears and he jumped as a little girl, whom he judged to be about six years old, tapped his leg and bounced on her heels patiently. She stared up at him with deep brown eyes and he instantly smiled. She then ran away down the beach, making everyone within a good two-mile radius aware that “he was it” and he must “catch her if he could.” He most definitely was not a father and had little experience with children due to his own child being stillborn, his late wife hemorrhaging severely and shortly following. However, this little girl sparked a longing in him that he had suppressed for the better part of a year in bitterness and anger. He decided to entertain her, just for awhile.

Never before could he remember a time he felt so liberated from the depression of the world and so absolutely weightless. He felt these things with fervor and genuine happiness, but the best thing about interacting with this small, innocent, vulnerable being was this newfound air of protectiveness that washed over him like the waves beside them.

Crash. There was only one thing worse that he could recall than a child screaming; that was a child not screaming. The blood poured down her leg as she cried for help. Naturally, Sebastian tore a piece of fabric from his old tee-shirt and wrapped her leg, staunching the blood flow.  He told her she’d be okay and wiped her tears. She giggled her angelic giggle again, hugged him tightly with her chubby arms, and ran back to her parents on the far side of the little beach.

The blood’s gone, she’s okay, she’s alive, he repeated to himself, hand pushing back dark curly hair from a sweaty forehead.  She’s with her family. They’re happy. She’s happy. With this knowledge, Sebastian patted the rocks fondly one last time. With a smile pointed toward God, his wife, and their child, he let the snow fall softly on his weatherworn face.

Author's Note

Please be honest, but be nice, I'm fragile! <3