Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I stretch out my arms, not caring that the other tourists around might be wondering why I’m reenacting the iconic scene from titanic. The light wind gusts under my arms and I close my eyes, relishing the tranquility that comes with breathing deep and forgetting everything that’s bad in the world.
You only live once, and this is living for me. Coming to a place where I can touch the sky, knowing that I’m as far east as it’s possible to go on this giant landmass. I’m dwarfed by the scale of the landscape but at the same time a giant in the world, capable of achieving whatever it is I want to achieve.
Only one thing is tethering me.
One weight rests on my shoulders.
But here, with the scent of salt and sunshine in my nostrils, I can just about shrug it off. That’s what traveling does for me. It unties me from the binds of home and the reality that comes with being a person who has to live up to expectations. A person who has responsibilities to other people.
Here, the only person I’m responsible for or to is myself.
And maybe the men of Cloud 9, but I get the feeling they’d forgive me a lot.
It's less than a week until the anniversary of Mom's death passes again. I wish I could forget…actually forget is the wrong word. I wish I could remember her without the dark blanket of her death resting over everything. I wish I could just remember the happy times. That's the saddest part of it. She was such a joyful person, and she'd hate what her passing has done to me and Dad.
She'd hate most of all the pressure he's putting me under and the wedge it's driven between us.
The anniversary of her death this year comes with the weight of a promise I made last year. It's a promise I don't want to keep.
You can't run forever.
Those were the last four words my dad said to me as I packed my bag for this trip. But he's wrong. I've got unending energy and determination to run for as long as it takes. As long as I have.
He’ll be angry with me, but it's a bitter pill I'll have to swallow.
Behind me, a family is taking pictures in front of the lighthouse and then towards the horizon.
Their happiness claws at my skin, making everything feel worse. We were like that once. A family who could just have fun and enjoy each other's company. Those memories are the most painful for me to recall.
I start back the way I came, needing the breeze against my skin and the silence of the air around me. I come to the point where I overlook Wategos beach, and spot Jared and Joshua catching the afternoon surf, skimming across the water like pond skaters but with a whole lot more finesse.
The heat of the sun has made my skin hot and my mouth dry. Searching for my bottle, I gulp half of the cool water and wipe my lips with the back of my hand, wishing I could swipe away my troubles as easily.
The beach is long, with perfect cream-colored sand that shifts beneath my sneakers as I approach the water, far enough away that I hope Jared and Joshua won't spot me. At least not immediately. I drop my bag to the sand, slide off my sneakers and socks, relishing the fine grains against the soles of my feet.
I have a bikini top beneath my white tank, but not the bottoms. Still, the water looks too good to miss. I strip off my tank, tossing it on top of my bag and stroll slowly down to the shoreline, letting the water seep between my toes and then over my ankles, up my calves, higher and higher until my denim shorts are submerged. The shock of the cold against my navel takes my breath away, but I don't stop. Instead, I keep the slow striding pace until the water is up to my throat, and even then I don't stop. Taking hold of my nose, I walk deeper, fighting against the tug of the current against my legs and closing my eyes to the spray of the surf. The water churns around me, as rough as the tumble of clothes in a washer.
I hold my breath, relishing the burn of my lungs as I fight the urge to gasp against the cold.
Beneath the water, all the stresses of the world above fade away. It's just me and the ocean. Me and the cold. Me and the push and pull of the tide above.
It's just me and my thoughts. Me and my determination.
Until it's not.
A strong arm hooks around my chest, tugging my feet from the swirling sand and yanking me upward until my face is above water and the wind blasts cold against my skin.