Dolphin Tale 6

Chapter [21]

C h a p t e r   T w e n t y   O n e

THEY SAY THAT THE LONELIEST moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly. They say that positivity is vital even when it feels like your life is falling apart. They also say that sometimes when things are falling apart they may actually be falling into place.

The thing is . . . do you know how lonely it feels when you see your world brought down, crumbling down towards your feet? Do you even know how hard it is to stay positive when your home sits in ruins right in front of your eyes; your home—destroyed, reduced to smithereens? Do you even know that in a time when things are falling apart, it's so hard to imagine that things might be falling together?

You wouldn't know how lonely it feels; how hard it is to stay positive; how hard it is to imagine things falling together when they've just fallen apart . . . unless you've witnessed your world falling apart before.

When Hazel and Sawyer stepped out of that taxi, it felt as though the world had tipped off of its axis and was rotating in a way that made them feel both disorientated and nauseous. This place—the place they so lovingly once called home—was not recognisable at all. It was like walking through a deserted ghost town that had been abandoned years ago after a storm had swept through and destroyed everything. This wasn't even a ghost town—it was a mere shell that had been battered and bruised by wild winds; swept back and forth through raging currents; burnt to dust and ash in many-tongued flames.

As they stood there, both rooted to the spot, the sound of wind shifting the leaves that were scattered on the ground reached their ears—a soft rustling that sounded like a torrent of whispers. They listened to the distant sound of water crashing against the concrete walls that contained it—a monster trying to break out of its cage. They listened to the melancholy harmony of birds as they sang from their perches in the trees—a gentle hymn that touched their hearts and sent tremors down their spines.

Everything seemed too peaceful, so juxtaposed to what had happened a mere few days ago. This was the silence after the storm—this was the aftermath, and what an aftermath it was.

Leaves and tree branches alike were splayed all across the ground like the feathers of a baby bird that tried—and failed—to fly. Shards of metal, wood, and glass were strewn across the ground like splinters in a wound. Bricks that had once formed the aquarium now lay scattered, deformed, and reduced to mere dust and sand like a mountain crumbling to the sea.

Clearwater Marine Aquarium had endured so many battles, both emotional and physical, and had won all of them . . . until now. Hazel and Sawyer stood there, surveying the battlefield of the final battle—the battle that had destroyed their home; the battle that had torn everything apart, including the walls that everyone had built around themselves to protect their emotions.

Tears rolled down Sawyer's face as his gaze swept over to Hazel, whose face was blank, not a trace of wetness in her eyes or on her face. Her face was impassive, a mask that hid all of her true emotions that were lurking deep within. Or perhaps she was empty on the inside; perhaps there was nothing left to feel; no tears left to shed. After all, you can't cry when you're already empty.

Sawyer looped an arm around Hazel's shoulders and pulled her in close. "Are you . . . okay?"

Hazel didn't answer, her eyes still fixed on what remained of her home, unfocused.

"Hazel? Are you all right?"

Hazel shrugged; to her, everything felt numb. Her mind, her emotions, her body . . . everything felt numb.

Sawyer squeezed her shoulder, using his other hand to tilt her chin upwards so that she was looking at him. "Hazel . . . ?"

Something within Hazel snapped and she felt the numbness wash away to be replaced with a sweeping sense of anger and frustration. She shrugged off Sawyer's arm and stepped away from him, her chin jutted up as she glared at him. "I don't know, okay? I'll be okay. Is that what you want me to say?'

Sawyer took in the way her eyes darkened considerably, a cold flame dancing within them. He saw the way her lips curved upwards in a menacing sneer, and the way her words resembled shards of ice, stabbing him repeatedly in the heart. In the years that Sawyer had known Hazel, this was the most anger she had ever vented towards him—never before had a chill ridden up his spine, nor had a cold, chilling flame swept through his body when she spoke to him. Seeing Hazel like this only made the pain he was already experiencing one-thousand times worse. Each word she spoke—each syllable she uttered—sent an icicle through his heart and caused a tsunami of pain to crash through his body.

Sawyer knew that he had to tread carefully around Hazel; one wrong, misplaced word could potentially cause an emotional meltdown. But the pain he was experiencing was affecting his train of thought, so he simply said, "I don't want you to say you're okay when you're not, Hazel. But it's okay; I know how you feel."

Hazel's response was snappy and icy. "No, you don't!"

Sawyer swallowed, feeling Hazel's harsh words pierce his heart, and he winced as he felt another wave of pain sweep through his veins.

"Has your home ever been destroyed before? Have you ever lost a lot of things you care about in a few hours? Have you ever felt the guilt of not being able to help people at home because you're so far away? Have you ever felt the burning rage of the cruelty of nature and the unfairness of life; felt the pain of losing ones you love; felt the frustration of an onslaught of questions that will never be answered?"

"I—"

"Maybe you have, but you won't have felt it in the way I'm feeling it right now. Clearwater Marine Aquarium was never your home. It has been my home since I was born . . . and now it's gone. You still have a home to go to; a place where you can stay and keep warm. Me? I have nothing." Hazel's voice broke, the tears finally falling as the anger was replaced by sadness—her tears taking the form of words her heart couldn't say. "You don't understand," she added quietly. "And you never will."

Sawyer watched on helplessly as Hazel turned on her heels and marched over to what used to be the entrance of Clearwater Marine Aquarium. He watched her lone silhouette vanish into the shadows; shadows formed by the grey clouds that loomed overhead—a sign that perhaps the worst wasn't over yet.