Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Tears and Piers

“My dad’s dead.” I realize this suddenly, and know that there is no doubt behind this statement. My dad is dead.

I begin to run blindly down the pier, not realizing how stupid of an idea it is because no matter what I will end up stuck at the end of it. The tears are flowing down my cheeks and being pulled away by the wind. I grab hold of my cheeks, not willing the tears to be taken away like everything else in my life has been. I hear footsteps running down the pier and I’m unsure if they’re my own or someone else’s.

“My dad is dead.” I remember this fact, and suddenly the tears are a rushing waterfall, leaving my trail behind them so I won’t get lost. I can’t even control my own tears. A gust of wind shakes my tears violently to the left, leaving a complicated path of them for these growing footsteps to follow. My hair is dancing maniacally in front of my face making it hard to see through the thick layer of darkness. My floral shirt that I once thought to be so cute is surely ruined by the stains of makeup-filled tears. But still I run.

I run through the crowds of people filling the pier that are shouting my well-known name. I run zigzagged through a crowd of workers asking me if I’m alright. I simply cover my face in my hands and scream silently in response to them. I continue to outrun the footsteps that beckon to attack me. Then I throw my arms down and begin to run with them flapping alongside me. At the same time my feet are crossing paths with one another due to the fact that my tears have suddenly consumed my entire body, and I have no chance of seeing where I’m going.

And suddenly my body is shaking and I have no control of my movements. My feet finally cross paths at exactly the same time, and I begin to tumble downwards. But magically my body doesn’t meet the splinters of the pier below me; instead it meets the arms of the footsteps that have caught me, and my fall.

I gasp for my breath that, along with many others things, has been stolen away.

“I’ve got you.” A soothing voice says. A voice that is unforgettable.

My head begins to pound and I shove it into the familiar scent of saltwater after dusk. The sobs escape my mouth and now even he has taken my tears away from me and placed them on his Billabong shirt.

“My dad is dead.” I cry into his shoulder and yet he doesn’t respond, but only combs through my dark hair with the gentle touch of his hand.

We must be standing because I don’t feel the pier pushing up against my body, yet my feet aren’t supporting my weight, only his are. Feeling more than slightly embarrassed, I stand on my own, still wrapped in his arms though.

“My dad’s dead.” This time instead of coming out as a dramatic sob, it comes out as a slight croak.

Still no response from him.

I look up into the ocean’s eyes, and find them staring off into the distance. The ocean can be a dangerous place, but I’ve never been bitten by a shark. At the same time though, it can be one of the kindest. With its smiles, sparkles, and softness, it’s hard not to love. And I come to realize that it’s all of these things about him that I love.

Yes, I love him.

Though I don’t smile once I realize this, I can’t through all of these tears. But I know that this is an unending love. I can talk about love with him later though; I’ve got bigger things to deal with.

“My dad is dead.” This time I squeeze his arms, willing a response out of him. The ocean meets me with warmth, and I see the sun reflecting off of his eyes. He smiles sadly, or is it slyly, as if hiding something? This feeling of love is becoming overwhelming, and I try to squeeze my way out of his now deathly grip.

“I know.” And suddenly I’m confused, how could he possibly know? He wraps me tighter into his arms,“Because I’m the one who killed him.”

Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

SilverSunThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Apr. 29, 2012 at 12:00 am:
Woah. Intriguing creepy and twisting story. The turn at the end was so unexpected. Nice job!!! Btw- what was the inspiration behind this?
. replied...
Apr. 30, 2012 at 9:35 pm :
Thank you! The inspiration to it came at random when I was thinking of stories to write!
Reply to this comment Post a new comment
Site Feedback