Reality
I sat down on a sandy bench along the boardwalk that runs along the beach. The boardwalk is old. The wood is chipped, and it droops. This beach, from what I have seen during my time here is a very tired, gloomy beach. The sun rarely shines. Dark clouds are almost always lurking around waiting until they are above us to let out the rain that they hold inside. Thunderstorms are frequent. As it seems are all stormy or gloomy weather conditions. It is so unlike the beach near my home of California that I sometimes forget to think of it as a beach.
Picking up some of the sand from the bench I examine it closely, I looked at each grain as if I was a scientist examining a new speciesism. It was a gray color, and it was cold. Never in all my growing up did I see gray or cold sand anywhere in California. The sand there had matched the perpetual happy mood I had as a child. There had been plentiful amounts of pretty shells and seaweed didn't wash up on the shore. That beach was like a dream now far away. Now I have woken up, now I have come upon reality.
I watched as the waves broke against the shore. They came from out at sea gaining momentum only to break when they found that they could not slow down. They crashed just as I had crashed after rushing through childhood. I crashed when I reached the rocky shore of life. Alas, childhood seems so long ago yet it was only a few seemingly short years ago when after sailing through middle school with A's I hit high school where I shattered into millions of pieces. Now I am expected to put those pieces back together into a shape resembling the happy, carefree girl I had been before. They say, when life throws you lemons make lemonade, but what can you do when the lemons lay smashed on the ground and there is not even enough sugar to coat the bottom of the cup?
Rain started to fall. On an already dark and stormy day of gloom such as today rain made it, if possible even gloomier. I got up from the bench and started walking. The wind was blowing the rain in my face. I looked over seeing the fresh rainwater mix with the salty ocean. It did no good to the frothing ocean water to have the clean rainwater mixed in with it, the ocean was bigger and too much more powerful for it to do any good. It was just as after dropping out of school when I was mixed with dark people. The whiteness of my former self did no good for those people, yet they instantly blackened my soul.
Thunder brewed in the distance as the wind picked up speed. I reached my house retreating into the depths of it. The house creaked. This house, I have come to live in it through all my misdeeds. I may as well frame the evidence on the wall, for hiding it does not work. When I go out people shy away from me. They know. They all know what I did. They know, they do not understand how or why I did it, but they know. They know, the only reason they have not told the authorities is because they are afraid.
Afraid that I am not the only one. Afraid that they will be next. Afraid for different reasons but afraid all the same. There will be no next I tell myself. The last time was the last, and will be for forever. However I know that when I climb the stairs to by room, waiting on my pillow will be a white envelope containing an address. Knowing that I have no choice, I will obey my master, just as I have every time before.
Again the waves came as if fighting to break loose from the ocean. As again they were Pushed back into their captivity. The waves came again attacking the shore one last time before I went to bed. When I opened the door to my bedroom I saw that lying on my pillow there was a white envelope and beside it was my master's weapon of choice. Small, and seemingly innocent, inconspicuous, something that nobody would suspect. There, beside the envelope lay a deathly, blue, jellybean.
As the tide comes in the ocean let the waves loose before reeling them back in. Every time the waves fall for it thinking they are free, just as every time the ocean reels them back in and they recede. Just as when I convince myself that my master does not need me any more and that I will be able to leave and start a new life somewhere far away I come up to my bedroom, and lying on my bed is a white envelope and a jellybean. One day I hope to be free of this. One day my master will find a new servant. Someone else can ruin themselves for him. He will catch them off guard. Someone young and unprepared. I should feel bad for this person that will have my job someday. Part of me wants to, but I can't. My mind will not let my heart do what I know is right. There was a note when I came here from the last person he enslaved. It made it clear that he had not felt sorry for me and that I therefore need not feel sorry for the next person after me and that I should write a note simpler to his to me when and if I were freed.
However I do not have to make this decision yet. One day I will though. One day far off in the distant future I will though. One day I will be free to wish upon a star and leave this dreadful place. It will be a day not unlike those that are mentions in children's storybooks and fairy tales. It will be a majestic day such as the one where Cinderella married her Prince Charming. One day... to think, one day, on my pillow, I will find a purple jellybean.
I sleep. I almost sleep too much but I am woken on the last ring of my alarm clock. I quickly silence it. I silently get ready. I read the instructions and the address from the envelope. I knew who lived there. My master was going for the gold, and this meant that if I could manage to pull this off I was sure to be freed. Setting out for my destination at a brisk walk I pondered where I would go. For once I could go anywhere I wanted. Nothing could hold me back.
I could leave the country. I could go to Europe where a whole ocean would separate me from this place. I could go east, maybe New York or perhaps Florida. I heard that it has the same vibe as California. There was only one place I couldn't go to. It was the place I wanted to go to most but it would not be worth it. To explain this to my parents is one thing I could not ever do. I can't go home.
When I reached the house I silently snuck around to the back door of the house. Quickly picking the lock on the door I went inside. The wife was out of town. The house staff was not here yet. This should be easy. I crept up the stairs to his bedroom. The door was oiled and made no sound when I opened it. I quickly put the jellybean into his mouth. Shoving as many valuables as possible into my bag I left the house.
I was safely back in my house, in my pajamas, with my hair messed up like I had been sleeping by the time I heard the sirens. The house staff had probably just arrived to get everything ready for him when he woke. I don't know why they had gone into his room but they had and I am glad that I was back here, all ready to pretend I knew nothing if I were to be asked. I went up to my room to put the hidden valuables onto my bed so that my master could collect them. There was a note on the pillow, and under the note was a purple jellybean. I thought long, and I thought hard before I ate it, and the world melted before my eyes.
Afraid to open my eyes, I tried to guess where I would end up. Knowing that even though I had made my choice I could end up somewhere else. That was the risk with traveling this way. I was inside somewhere, lying in a bed. I closed my eyes tighter wanting it all to have been a dream, but knowing it can't have been. Then there was a call from somewhere else within the house. "Breakfasts ready." I breathed out, relieved, it was my mom I am not the person I have thought myself to have become. I am still a middle school girl that enjoys drawing pretty sunsets from the beaches in San Jose. I get up, running down the stairs towards the breakfast that awaits me.