Coral Bones

Everything about this little girl named Logan was anything but predictable.

Her mood ebbed and flooded with the changing tides, constantly alternating between crests and troughs, as tumultuous as the sea. The youngest of three, she was born with the sparks of a spitfire personality, and each passing day only added more fuel to the flames. It was as if every member of her family each played a role in this saga that was constantly unfolding, and at the age of eight, Logan was still trying to find her place.

Even at that young age, she knew she had to stand out somehow, to make her mark on this seemingly endless world that stretched out all around her, but it proved to be a difficult task. Her older sister, with her long wheat blonde curls and doe-brown eyes, was the token “sweet” one, the first daughter. Her brother, the eldest of the three siblings, was the only son, the responsible one, the protector of his two baby sisters. While Logan had no issues with her siblings and knew she was loved, safe, and secure, she felt like, since all the other positions were taken, she was left to be the oddball of the family.

The small girl’s personality had always had a way of teetering between two extremes, and the beach was the only place where she experienced the feeling of being truly centered. The sea was her home and her escape, and she was fortunate to have grown up with a private, pristine stretch of shoreline as her backyard. While she still feared venturing out into the waves on her own, she found peace in being able to lie in the sand, to observe the beauty of the ocean as it lapped against the coast and respect both its reckless danger and natural beauty.

Ever since she could remember, Logan had always been drawn to the siren song of the shore. Her fondest and most prominent memories all involved the beach. Building sand castles with her father, collecting seashells with her mother just as the sun was beginning to rise, feeding the pesky gulls bits of bread with her sister. Her family’s life seemed to revolve around the picturesque landscape in this intricate way. Some of her earliest memories were of the majestic billowing sail of the gigantic boat on her dresser and the commanding ship’s wheel that decorated her nursery. The first time she’d ventured out into the frothy tide was still fresh in her mind, the way she’d clutched at her father’s dark hair when he carried her out into the deep on her shoulders. Watching the waves break against his chest, she’d been so scared, but she knew she was safe with his grip firm around her ankles.

Settling down in her favorite spot along a slab of smooth rock, Logan could feel the warmth of the sun against her fair skin, embracing her fragile frame. The salty breeze whipped through her chestnut curls, the sun bringing out their natural auburn sheen. For a moment, coffee-colored eyes struggled to decipher figures in the clouds before she finally allowed them to flutter close, her thoughts dissipating as the familiar sound of the tide crashing against the shore served as her lullaby.

Minutes began to blend into one another as she lost track of time. She could’ve stayed on that rock all day, basking in the sun, but the shadow behind her lids caught her attention, and the little girl snapped up.

Her eyes took some time to adjust to the bright sunshine again, but Logan could still make out the silhouette of her father as he took a seat beside her. His dark hair was slightly damp, the salt in the air causing the ends to curl as the wind carelessly raked through the locks. Her same coffee bean eyes squinted back at her against the sun, and every time those eyes fell on her, she noticed the dimples dig deeper into his cheeks, his familiar smile immediately softening his features.

The father and daughter were silent for a moment, both pairs of brown eyes watching the waves before he finally spoke.

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing out here? It’s almost time for lunch,” he asked casually, and as the little girl inched closer to him, he wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders.

The eight year old didn’t quite have the vocabulary to explain the contrasting flurry of thoughts and waves of calm that simultaneously washed over her body, so instead, all she could offer him was a faint smile and a half-hearted shrug.

“Well, I just thought I’d come out and let you know that Mom made your favorite: PB&J. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss that.”

Her eyes lit up at the thought, but there was still a question that lingered in the back of her mind. Even though in her heart she already knew the answer, she needed the reassurance. Logan was only a girl built from coral, sand, and shells, each so fragile, always threatened to be shattered. Despite her sassy attitude and her sweet southern drawl, she was just a little girl, a little girl who needed to know she was still the center of someone’s entire universe.

Her father noticed the insecurity in his daughter’s expression. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

She diverted her stare, her eyes fixated on the embroidered patterns along the skirt of her pink sundress as the words tumbled past her lips. “Daddy, do you love me?”

A mixture of emotions flickered in his deep eyes, his features blank as he tried to find the right words to say. Instead of trying to formulate some speech or some life lesson, he decided to settle on the simple truth as he pulled his daughter close against his chest.

“Of course I do, honey.” His lips brushed against the top of her head as her fingers grasped at his shirt. “Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re amazing, you’re you.”