An Ocean of Consequences

Chapter One - Pt. One

(1794 words)

I walked barefoot through the sand, enjoying the smell of the morning air blowing over the ocean's waves. The crisp saltiness soothed my senses with each breeze. I watched as the sun raised high enough to tint the sky from yellow to a pale blue. I had spent my morning as I always did, swimming in the shallow waters of the island's south end. The water there was warm and still before sunrise, so peaceful. But, soon after, the tide would come in, and with it, the fishers and dock workers. The water would become background noise, ignored, unnoticed,

I strolled along the edge of the water, letting it splash against my ankles with every slow step, watching the last hint of yellow leave the edges of the clouds. My hair ruffled around more and more as it dried. The auburn tendrils looked like fire when the sun shone through them. I combed it back and braided it over my shoulder.

Leaving the water for the beach, I jogged through the sand to the steep stone steps. The strands of hair too short to fit into the braid flew across my face with the wind. The climb up the stairs was treacherous if taken too lightly—a slight slip in the rain as a child left me with a scar on my knee—my permanent reminder that even the smallest actions can have great consequences.

I brushed the strands out of my face, just in case.

As the surroundings of the stairs changed from sand to pebbles to lush ferns and small palm trees, I knew I was nearing my destination. I looked up from my feet to take in the views of my island.

Pulla Siva, Beautiful City in the old language, was indeed beautiful. A long, crescent-shaped beach of pale sand, wrapped around a tall expanse of green, terraced levels scattered with various structures. The Terraces stacked high up the mountainside to a plateau, the top adorned with marble government buildings, its northernmost peak a broken cliff that cascaded in tapering masses to the ocean far below. Only from the Plateau could you see the other side of the island—a leveled plane, much more expansive than this side, covered in the orthographic green of farms and ranches, reaching out to the rocky cliffs and mines along the other coast. All of it was true to the island's name, but I spent most of my time here, as near to the beach as allowed.

After the solitude of my morning routine, I always went to see my friend, Garee. He lived much closer to the beach than I did, which was a great excuse to see him as often as possible. The structures on the Terraces, grew denser and more modern the higher up they went. More affluent families lived nearest to the Plateau. With my father being in government, my family's house sat three shallow levels from the top. Garee was a self-made business person, selling produce grown on his family's farm at the market—nearly the opposite of me. I often envied his life, being freer with his choices, not forced to live the gilded life of unreachable expectations I did. He had autonomy. He had a choice.

With the two of us being from such opposing backgrounds, people often questioned how our friendship came to be. But that was how I preferred it—a chance to see from another perspective. A change to live a different life, if only for a few minutes.

When I finally made it to the weathered red door, I smiled when I caught his eyes through the kitchen window. He opened it before I reached it and looked at me with a pout.

"I changed my mind," he whimpered.

I could not help but laugh at his uncharacteristic greeting. "Hi to you too," I jeered, letting myself inside. He dragged the door closed behind me as I grabbed a cup from the kitchen counter to help myself to the tea he had made.

"I'm serious, Keer, I can't do it," he continued. "He probably doesn't even know who I am."

That was ludicrous. Garee was impossible to miss. He was handsome in a tough sort of way—tall and muscular, with tanned skin and freckles along his nose, cheeks, and shoulders. He exuded strength and had an exuberant, guileless personality to match. Everything about him was attractive. Seeing him be shy was abnormal, to say the least.