Status: Hey there, this is my favorite story
Lisbeth
The Sea
My name is Lisbeth.
I was a recent graduate, majoring in photography and minoring in anthropology. Do you know how many jobs those get you? About none. Anyway, I was living in a tiny cottage at the very tip of Nova Scotia. I’d wrangled a job at one of the local stores, even if it didn’t pay a lot. At least the view was gorgeous, steep cliffs, ‘wine-dark seas’, stormy skies, all that stuff. I’d made it a habit to walk along the cliffs, sun or not. It was on one of those strolls that I saw him. A boy, shirtless, standing dangerously close to the edge. He was very pale, with narrow hips. Shaggy dark hair reached to the nape of his neck.
As I watched he spread his arms and leaned forward. I was too late to catch him. He jumped. Which is when I did something so stupid I hate myself. I leapt after him, diving painfully into the sea. The cold hit like a bullet, immediately numbing my toes. I grabbed his hair, pulling him to the surface with me. He fought, fingers grabbing at my shoulders, leaving scratches on my skin. He was screaming something I couldn’t hear over the roar of the water. Thankfully I was a strong swimmer and I managed to drag him to shore. It was several seconds before we moved. He started hitting at the ground. “Fuck! Why’d you do that?”
His face was blotched, hair dripping, but he seemed familiar. I was soaked, cold, and tired. Thus, not in the best of moods. “Are you fucking crazy? It’s zero degrees out there and there’s a fucking storm warning! You’re lucky to be alive!” His teeth were bared, but he still hadn’t looked me in the eye. “No, no I’m not. You should have left me alone!” “You meant to die.” It wasn’t a question. I looked him over again. Why was he so familiar? “Of course! Damnit!” He leaned his head on his knees. I could hear him muttering fuck over and over.
When I tapped his arm he flinched. “Please don’t touch me.” “Uh, okay.” It started pouring and I was ready to go. “Come with me.” I was kind of surprised when he did. We hiked back to my cottage, where I sat him on a towel across from me. The boy just stared into space. He was the kind of person built for attention, a person who’ll always be noticed. Face very thin, eyes a deep brown, warm. They only highlighted his hollow cheekbones and overfull lips. All in all, the starving artist type, passionate, always hungry.
When he spoke I was pulled from my thoughts. “Who are you?” Unlike me, the American, his voice was slightly accented. “Lisbeth.” “Lisbeth what?” “Duara.” I saw his face change to impatience. “Your full name!” “Uh, Lisbeth Suki Duara.” He relaxed into humor. “Can I call you LSD?” “No.” That had been my nickname and drug of choice. Both were kept firmly in the past. When my clock chimed 6 am he jumped up, running from the room. I followed to see him on his back, eyes wide open. Within a few seconds he grunted and sat up. “What the hell is wrong with you?” And why was he so familiar? He grinned, shaking droplets off his hair as he walked inside. “Who are you?!” He was on the couch again. “Destery Jacob Cross.” That explained it.
The mayor’s son was sitting in my living room, soaking wet. “Fuuckk.” Destery said, bowing his head again. He hadn’t looked me in the eyes yet. “What now?” “You know me. You’ll tell my dad.” Oddly, his voice was blank, even when his face showed a lot of emotion. “Well, yes. You just tried to kill yourself, and I think you might be crazy.” “I’m not crazy, I swear.” He didn’t deny the suicide. “What are you then?” “Aspergers.” I knew about that, but he could function.... “Very low level.” He added hastily.
“I’m having a hard time believing I wouldn’t have heard about that.” Small towns gossip viciously. “Why would we tell anyone?” “Umm...” I couldn’t find an answer for that. “My dad doesn’t believe in ‘retards’. My brother had Aspergers too, high level, and dad sent him away.” His voice went dead. “My mom has been keeping me safe.” “And, and the depression?” Destery’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell you about that?” “Well, uh, I guess you wouldn’t.”Thunder boomed and we both jumped. “You should go home now.” “I’m not going home.” “Where then?” Destery didn’t seem to hear me. He stood and walked out into the storm. I couldn’t find him after that.
A few hours later there was a knock on my door. “Hello?” A cop stood outside. “Hello. I just need to know if you have any information on Destery Cross? He went missing earlier today.” I almost told him to go look in the waves, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the concern on the man’s face. “I found Destery earlier today, trying to kill himself. I rescued him and brought him inside, but he left hours ago. I haven’t seen Destery since.” The cop’s face collapsed. “Oh God.” I bustled him inside. “I’m so sorry. Did you know Destery well, Mr...?” “Cross. Lex Cross. I’m his uncle, looking for him.” I could see the resemblance. Same eyes. “Because his dad hasn’t even noticed yet.” “Huh?” “Nothing dear. Thank you for the help. Here’s my number if you see him again.” I could see he wanted to be alone with his grief. “You’re welcome. Bye.” I knew we both were thinking about the same thing-Destery.
I was a recent graduate, majoring in photography and minoring in anthropology. Do you know how many jobs those get you? About none. Anyway, I was living in a tiny cottage at the very tip of Nova Scotia. I’d wrangled a job at one of the local stores, even if it didn’t pay a lot. At least the view was gorgeous, steep cliffs, ‘wine-dark seas’, stormy skies, all that stuff. I’d made it a habit to walk along the cliffs, sun or not. It was on one of those strolls that I saw him. A boy, shirtless, standing dangerously close to the edge. He was very pale, with narrow hips. Shaggy dark hair reached to the nape of his neck.
As I watched he spread his arms and leaned forward. I was too late to catch him. He jumped. Which is when I did something so stupid I hate myself. I leapt after him, diving painfully into the sea. The cold hit like a bullet, immediately numbing my toes. I grabbed his hair, pulling him to the surface with me. He fought, fingers grabbing at my shoulders, leaving scratches on my skin. He was screaming something I couldn’t hear over the roar of the water. Thankfully I was a strong swimmer and I managed to drag him to shore. It was several seconds before we moved. He started hitting at the ground. “Fuck! Why’d you do that?”
His face was blotched, hair dripping, but he seemed familiar. I was soaked, cold, and tired. Thus, not in the best of moods. “Are you fucking crazy? It’s zero degrees out there and there’s a fucking storm warning! You’re lucky to be alive!” His teeth were bared, but he still hadn’t looked me in the eye. “No, no I’m not. You should have left me alone!” “You meant to die.” It wasn’t a question. I looked him over again. Why was he so familiar? “Of course! Damnit!” He leaned his head on his knees. I could hear him muttering fuck over and over.
When I tapped his arm he flinched. “Please don’t touch me.” “Uh, okay.” It started pouring and I was ready to go. “Come with me.” I was kind of surprised when he did. We hiked back to my cottage, where I sat him on a towel across from me. The boy just stared into space. He was the kind of person built for attention, a person who’ll always be noticed. Face very thin, eyes a deep brown, warm. They only highlighted his hollow cheekbones and overfull lips. All in all, the starving artist type, passionate, always hungry.
When he spoke I was pulled from my thoughts. “Who are you?” Unlike me, the American, his voice was slightly accented. “Lisbeth.” “Lisbeth what?” “Duara.” I saw his face change to impatience. “Your full name!” “Uh, Lisbeth Suki Duara.” He relaxed into humor. “Can I call you LSD?” “No.” That had been my nickname and drug of choice. Both were kept firmly in the past. When my clock chimed 6 am he jumped up, running from the room. I followed to see him on his back, eyes wide open. Within a few seconds he grunted and sat up. “What the hell is wrong with you?” And why was he so familiar? He grinned, shaking droplets off his hair as he walked inside. “Who are you?!” He was on the couch again. “Destery Jacob Cross.” That explained it.
The mayor’s son was sitting in my living room, soaking wet. “Fuuckk.” Destery said, bowing his head again. He hadn’t looked me in the eyes yet. “What now?” “You know me. You’ll tell my dad.” Oddly, his voice was blank, even when his face showed a lot of emotion. “Well, yes. You just tried to kill yourself, and I think you might be crazy.” “I’m not crazy, I swear.” He didn’t deny the suicide. “What are you then?” “Aspergers.” I knew about that, but he could function.... “Very low level.” He added hastily.
“I’m having a hard time believing I wouldn’t have heard about that.” Small towns gossip viciously. “Why would we tell anyone?” “Umm...” I couldn’t find an answer for that. “My dad doesn’t believe in ‘retards’. My brother had Aspergers too, high level, and dad sent him away.” His voice went dead. “My mom has been keeping me safe.” “And, and the depression?” Destery’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell you about that?” “Well, uh, I guess you wouldn’t.”Thunder boomed and we both jumped. “You should go home now.” “I’m not going home.” “Where then?” Destery didn’t seem to hear me. He stood and walked out into the storm. I couldn’t find him after that.
A few hours later there was a knock on my door. “Hello?” A cop stood outside. “Hello. I just need to know if you have any information on Destery Cross? He went missing earlier today.” I almost told him to go look in the waves, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the concern on the man’s face. “I found Destery earlier today, trying to kill himself. I rescued him and brought him inside, but he left hours ago. I haven’t seen Destery since.” The cop’s face collapsed. “Oh God.” I bustled him inside. “I’m so sorry. Did you know Destery well, Mr...?” “Cross. Lex Cross. I’m his uncle, looking for him.” I could see the resemblance. Same eyes. “Because his dad hasn’t even noticed yet.” “Huh?” “Nothing dear. Thank you for the help. Here’s my number if you see him again.” I could see he wanted to be alone with his grief. “You’re welcome. Bye.” I knew we both were thinking about the same thing-Destery.