My Fears Burn While You're Around

Staring back at me out of the ocean water was a reflection I wasn't too proud of. Blue eyes held sadness and worry and had bags under them that plagued me. Strawberry blonde hair was frizzy and untamed and had seen way too many days in the ocean breeze. Tan skin that had spent one too many days in the intense heat of the sun and its rays. A stomach that was flatter than it should be due to lack of nutrition. Overall, it wasn't a pretty sight to me. Celeste was not a pretty sight these days.

I turned and took several steps out of the salty water before turning and seeing my footsteps disappear with the retreating wave. The ocean was always a fascinating feature of the world to me. It was constantly washing things up onto the shore with its strong waves only to turn around and suck it back in several hours later. It was always recycling its treasures.

That seemed to be the story of my life these days. You're not left with too many options when you don't actually have a home or many personal belongings. You just have to use the same things over and over. I didn’t mind it though. I knew my life was never going to be an easy one and I didn't expect for things to get better anytime soon.

Facing away from the water I grabbed my ratty converse from their resting place on the sand. With them in one hand and my tattered black messenger bag in the other I headed for my usual spot to work on my writing some more. My footprints remained in the sand for the moment but they would fade in time as more people came and left their own prints. It seemed like I was always being trampled. Would I ever leave my mark on the world?

Probably not.

I made a few turns on the sidewalk right beside the sand and eventually made it to my destination. I set my bag down on the concrete bench that I had dubbed as mine before placing my converse on the ground below it. I folded my legs under me as I sat and stared out at the sight before me. This was more or less my daily routine.

My life was simple now that my family was gone. It was easier this way. You would think after nineteen years I would have been use to the abuse. I don’t think anyone can ever get used to a thing like that though. I've been on my own for the past year and honestly I couldn't be happier about that. I spend my days by the beach admiring the water and people watching while my nights are spent in my makeshift shelter in central park in Huntington. It wasn't always the safest place but it worked for me for the time being.

I turned my eyes to my bag and grabbed the flap so I could open it. Digging through my mess I was finally able to locate my black notebook that had belonged to me for years. It held many secrets of my life along with some of my creative writing stories that helped me to pass the long days. I think if I were to ever lose it I don't know what I would do. This was my sanity in a nutshell. I dreaded the thought of when it would become completely full and I had to somehow find a new one to use. Money was something I simply didn't have in my life. Occasionally I would be able to get a drink or some food off of someone who offered it to me but most of the time I was left to fend for myself. But hey I had done alright so far.

I flipped open to where I left off in my story and pulled out my trusty pen from the bottom of my bag. Tucking a short blonde strand of hair out of my eyes I began pressing the pen to the paper as I wrote.

Sometimes my thoughts filled the pages of my book but other times they were characters that I made up. It all depended on my mood I suppose. I paused with my current thought and glanced up as an odd feeling shot through me. It may have been odd but it was a daily feeling yet somehow I never quite got used to it. I looked over my shoulders slowly to find that no one was watching me that I could see. So why did it feel like it? Maybe paranoia was starting to hit me. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was. I grew up being afraid of things and more importantly people.

Gulping I glanced to the side once more to find I was still alone. I turned my head back to the pages of writing that were staring up at me expectantly. The sentence that I had paused in was calling my name and begging to be finished. Yet something in me just couldn’t do it.

Today's nagging feeling of being watched was worse than other days. Small hairs on the back of my neck stood on end making me twitch lightly. I rubbed the back of my neck and felt the goosebumps that had risen on my skin. Something just didn't feel right today. I clicked my pen shut and placed it back in my bag along with my now closed notebook. I grabbed my bag and laid down on the bench so that my small body was now hidden by the concrete back. I held my bag close to my chest as I stared aimlessly at the crashing waves.

My eyes closed and my mind became lost in a swirl of thoughts.

"You fucking bitch! Why the hell can't you ever do anything right?" I cowered as the yells became worse and worse. All over being brought the wrong kind of beer. I'm sorry my twelve year old mind couldn’t tell the difference between an American brewed beer and a German brewed beer.

I shrunk back as the man I used to call my father advanced on me with a fist raised. I knew what was coming. It was the same punishment that always awaited me when I made a mistake. My mind knew it was wrong of him yet somehow my mother allowed it to happen.

I remember going to bed covered in bruises. It was like that almost every night. I had been beaten, thrown around like a rag doll, cussed out, and worst of all, raped. No young girl growing up deserves that, I knew that much. There was never any love in that house. The only love that I ever saw was the kind my father had for his alcohol and drugs.

I didn't know what it was like to love. It was safe to say I feared being touched by a man now. I cringed every time a guy would walk by and look at me. Part of me still expected the pain but the other part knew I was now free from it.

My parents had died 'tragically' a year ago once I turned eighteen. People claimed it was a car accident caused by another driver. I knew better though. I had seen them leave that night high and drunk out of their minds. I knew they wouldn't make it far driving yet I had no desire to stop them. As far as I was concerned at the time they deserved what they had coming to them. I was thankful to be left with no family. It just sucked not to have anything come from their deaths. There was no will and I wasn't even mentioned as getting to inherit anything. That didn't bother me though. Why would I want to own something that haunted me in my childhood?

I was happy with where I was now. It was better than all I ever had in the past.

Sometimes I wondered where my life was going. Would I ever get back on my feet? I suppose get on my feet to begin with would be better. My life wasn't planned out as far as I was concerned. I just waited for a door to open so I could step inside and see what that path held. I took life one day at a time and hoped that would be enough to suffice for now.

A small growl interrupted my thoughts. Glancing down I realized my stomach was begging me for food. It had been quite some time since I had last had something. I suppose now was a good time to try and satisfy that craving.

I sat up and placed my bag back on the bench. Reaching down underneath the concrete structure I pulled out my shoes and pulled them on my feet over my dirty socks.

The feeling of being watched returned to me once more and I stood up and grabbed my bag before placing it on my shoulder. Turning around I moved from around the bench and took a few steps to the left of it. I shoved my hands into my pockets and turned to face the ocean once more. My gaze moved away from the clear water and turned to the houses that were positioned across the street.

The people that lived in those had to be loaded and must live very good lives. I envied them quite often.

I was about to look away when a certain window caught my eye. It was on the third level of one of the houses directly across from me. Someone was standing in the window length but it was hard to make out if it was a man or a lady.

I searched for a moment before I froze completely when my own blue eyes met a pair of gorgeous hazel ones. The figure stepped closer to the window and I could vaguely tell it was a guy by his body type.

His eyes locked with mine again and narrowed slightly as if in question. I felt mine widen as I hurriedly looked away and took off running down the street toward central park.

I was right.

I was being watched.