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Order this writing in the collection book Distinguished Writings available for only $1772 |
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My parents named me Cheerful. They told me that I was named after the way they felt the day that I was born. This used to make me giggle as a child. Smiling as they told me, I never seemed to grow tired of hearing it.
At the age of ten I was raped. It was by a maintenance worker at my father’s office building where I used to play during the summer. In the summer the sun reflected off of the tall mirrored windows and I would run around outside never growing tired of the heat.
His name was Nick and sometimes he wore shirts with the arms ripped off. His jeans often had pockets missing from the back. I suspect that he wore the same pair every day. There was always a large set of keys dangling from his belt loop. Nothing but a fist full of keys and a large metal bottle opener. He got to know my name after seeing me so often and would buy me sodas.
When I would meet new people I would often exclaim “I was raped.” It’s like I just wanted to get it out of the way.
On a bad day it became hard to live up to my namesake. All it took was one sour expression for people to remind me of the irony. You’re not very /cheerful/ are you? What’s the matter /Happy/? I never knew anyone who didn’t bring this up at least once during the time that I knew them.
I was always surrounded by friends. We went to the beach at night and stood at the shore where it felt like standing at the edge of the world. Sometimes boys would talk to me and I’d sit there and watch their mouths move and watch their eyes as they talked to me and I’d imagine them trying to think of ways to get inside of me.
We built bonfires when it got dark and that’s when all of the crazies came out. The beach was littered with rejects and addicts. We’d sit around the fire and watch them stumble across the beach. One night a woman staggered out to the breakers and stood there for five minutes screaming. At the end there was an eerie silence.
“I want to be like her” I said and we all laughed uncontrollably.
It was my birthday and we piled into a local coffee shop. I ordered coffee and a side of fries. This earned me my free dessert. A sliver of vanilla ice cream with fudge and a cherry and a small white candle stuck in the middle. The waitress set it down, candle unlit and walked away. Someone sitting next to me pulled a lighter out of their pocket and lit it. I blew it out without making a wish.
The waitress brought our check. She looked young but older than us and tired. No one bothered to ask her “What’s wrong?” when she scowled.
After running out of things to do, drawing on napkins, dropping dimes into the ketchup jar, we left; leaving half empty sugar packets on the table and a handful of change equaling one dollar and fifty for the tip.
We were going to meet up later. My friends went home to search their parent’s liquor cabinets for anything that wouldn’t be missed. I walked down towards the beach, where I would spend the rest of the day.
I sat on the sand for a bit, watching the waves. It was a clear day and I could see boats disappear on the horizon. Sinking lower and lower until it appeared that they had dropped into the sea. Long tendrils of kelp were spread out in a tangled heap along the shore. The water splashed over them and it looked like they were reaching out of the ocean.
I headed closer to the shore. There were rocks that rose lazily from the sand and tourists that strolled along the beach. The tourists usually avoided the rocks. There was a large stone formation that the water beat against, refusing to be buried during high tide. It looked determined among the scattered stones. My friends and I drank here at night, laughing at the waves and throwing bottles into the ocean.
I walked along the bottom of the rocks, picking at the sea glass carefully with my bare feet until I got tired and sprawled out on the reef. Occasionally someone would pass by to poke at the crabs that hid in the rocks. Birds pecked at the barnacles as I watched surfers in the distance.
A surfer approached. He walked across the rocks, barefoot and slim inside a black wetsuit. As he walked by I smiled at him. My eyes shyly studied his hairline as I avoided eye contact and waited for him to smile back. He smile back quickly and naturally and kept walking, seeming to forget my presence as he passed.
Picking his footing in quick calculated moves, surfboard tucked away under one arm, he approached the water carefully. Once he stepped off of the rocks and onto the sand I could hear him curse. I could see blood from a deep gash in his foot as he lifted it, tilting it towards him, to pull out a large clear piece of glass. He limped along and dipped his foot in the water, cursing again, this time the waves muffled his words. He threw his board down and slid across the water, making his way out to where the waves formed.
Waves crept under his board as he straddled it, rocking gently, wasting time relaxing as I watched. Wet suit slick with water, hair matted, curled around his face which was now a blur in the distance. The sea seemed to pull him out farther. I couldn’t draw my eyes away.
Something stirred as minutes passed, and he sat looking downwards, studying mystery swirls within the water. His posture gave away a curious outline and deeper thoughts of worry. A mystery protrusion emerged, gray and pointed. Seconds later he toppled from the board, rolling off of the side, mouth wide, letting out a short scream that ended in the ocean. A struggle formed from arms and fins, flailing--and blood leaked like ink, forming red ribbons on the waves.
A lifeguard boat arrives to pull him mid struggle out of the ocean. I can see a piece of his thigh is missing, not really a piece, more like an empty space. And I’m looking through to see the ocean beyond. Crowds have formed on the beach. Everyone is out of the water.
The day ends slowly. Night falls, casting dark shadows onto the sand, forgotten blood flows out to sea, sinking with the sun. That night we sat on the beach, perched on the rocks, drinking, laughing, and throwing bottles into the ocean.
