Screams of Blue
Not one cloud in the sky, every direction screams out blue.
The hills are green, the people talking their mele and the little ones are marching down to the sea. Daddy and I get in his old gold corolla and I would have surely been happy, but he seemed a little ill. Starting our route, down and up the hills, slowly cutting curves, blowing our horn through the one lane roads, we cross the border. The border is imaginary, but it is there, welcome to the French Side. When dad would take me to Le Galion beach, I knew that I could swim as far as I would like without him holding my hand, for the water level would not pass my short knees for miles. I knew that I would be free. With dad, I always felt free.
We parked the car on the sand and we really shouldn’t have, but we did. It was the first time that I had gone on beach day with dad and that my cousin had not came. I was left to my adventures alone. Approaching the calm-crystal-clear water, I notice cap size brown thingies floating on the surface, this was my first real-life encounter with jellyfish. My dad had not warned me, instead taught me a lesson: do not remain comfortable in the things that, to me, are unknown, question everything. Minutes later, I hit the sand, “there goes my leg” I thought to myself. In the back, there was dad laughing up a storm. The dream then starts to lose color. Cloud’s start appearing, and dad’s smile starts to fade. I know that it is coming, so I slowly walk to the car for I fear that walking fast might quicken the process. I touch my dad’s face and I know it. I know that my dad was leaving forever. And with him, took everything.