Daughter of the Sea #PlanetOrPlastic

The day was going to be miserable. I could just feel it. The sun shined like any other day and the air smelt just the same, but I just knew, today was going to be unwelcomed. It was like some part of me knew that the weeks of planning, preparing, and late nights were going to be all for nothing.

So, as I sat there in the court room, watching the gavel hit the wood and the judge declaring not guilty, I somehow anticipated it. Expected, yet another company would walk away – unpunished. They would go on to continue illegally disposing waste, destroying more and more of the planet along the way. And we were letting it happen.

I felt a grip on my arm pulling me out the doors, but not before catching the opposing legal teams' triumphant expressions.

"This is ridiculous." I said to myself, to anyone around me.

"I know," said William, tiredly.

"We'll get them next time." Wyatt spoke. He looked like how I felt, angry and pained, as expected from our team leader. This was a huge environmental case thrown out the window.

"I'm going to head out," I said, not being able to stand there any longer. I needed to be somewhere else, but not just any place. It wasn't long before I was in my car taking the familiar hour-long drive. I arrived just before the sky could change colours.

The cabin was unlocked, as usual. I tossed my jacket to the nearest surface and slipped off my shoes, before stepping out of the back doors. Instantly, I was hit with the scent of the memories of my childhood. I didn't stop walking till I felt the cold water wrap around my ankles and it was then I took a deep breath.

This was home.

I could almost taste the melting lemonade popsicles my mother would make as we sat outside watching the sun set over the ocean. We were lucky to have a small secluded piece of the beach, just off the coast. It was our own treasure island.

I heard his footsteps before I saw him. He stood beside me silently staring at the gentle water. My father was so much like the sea.

"Rough day." He didn't ask, he just stated it knowingly.

I sighed.

"You'll find a way," he said. I shook my head. "The storms are never easy, Cara, but we push through it. We brave the waters."

My father was a sailor, so was his father, and his fathers' father. Salt water ran through their veins and the sea became more our home than land. One morning I found our treasure island polluted with waste washed up overnight. It slowly became a common thing.

I knew I had to do something.

Like a reminder of today, a plastic bottle floated some steps ahead of me, I reached out and grabbed it and looked at my father with a sad smile.

"They're dying," I whispered.

"Yes, they are."