My eyelids are fluttering closed as I breathe in the briny aroma. I wait as I feel the soft sand under my feet that’s damp from the retreating tide. Pitter patting my feet on the moist sand, I slowly open my eyes to the sky that’s painted red and orange, with the sun sinking to the horizon. The clouds above are spread out and looks like white smokes emitting from the engines. I watched the lacy waves come back with the sound like drumbeats that echo my heartbeats as the cool breeze blew the tension right out of my bones. I smiled when the water splashed my bare feet and went back from where it came.
This beauty is situated deep inside the creek and I bet anyone knows about it. The creek is wild and creepy and has become off limits to everyone. Tales revolve about the creek to be haunted and such, but they were just tales, good enough to make you get the chills.
I didn’t try to explore the creek to prove the stories to be wrong like bunch of teenagers did in the past and came out running wild like maniacs, adding additional fittings to the tales and proving their point, or actually expect the ‘haunted’ experience. I accidentally ended up running into the creek and by the time I realised, I was deep inside. I didn’t believe the stories when I heard it from Aunt May and the others but when I landed up in the creek around midnight with dark tall trees staring down at me with darkness all around, I couldn’t think of anything but the stories and at some point I started to believe them
I never thought that one day I might end up running into a scary creek for safety, from my father.
Working as an event coordinator, My father Gabriel Ferrari is not a man of many words. His wife’s death might’ve caused him more pain that he distanced himself even from his own daughter. I won’t blame him for he was never really there for even when my mother was alive. Work and money has been his main priority but as a father he fulfilled all the responsibilities.
One night I witnessed a whole new different personality in my father. He was very late than usual and when he arrived he was totally drunk, something I’ve never seen him do before. It was strange to me but things became even more stranger when he started throwing tantrums in Italian (I don’t speak or understand Italian) and behave violently. I tried to calm him down and talk to him but his subconsciousness was far from listening to me. His behavior caused me to panic and when he became uncontrollable and started screaming, shouting in agony and started to throw every thing that found his hand, I had no other option but to ran away from that man. I thought I was safe from him on the streets but he followed me out.
My father looked like a killer under the dim streetlights which only showed me his shadow as he came out of the home after me, screaming in Italian. I didn’t know what to do but run like my life is at stake. His drunk situation didn’t help him to catch up with me and my marathon run without any care in the world made me stumble deep into this creek. For some reason the creek looked a little less dangerous than my father at that moment and maybe that’s what prevented me from going back to search for a better place to hide. As I stayed in the calm creek watching everywhere with terror, I heard the relaxing sound of the waves. The sound pulled me further into the creek, and passing all the trees and bushes I stopped right here. That night I saw the most beautiful sight ever. The moon was high up in the sky and the sea looked like diamonds, glittering gracefully under the full moon. The sand here made it look like a beach and mesmerizing was an understatement.
I sat here and watched the waves fight beautifully to come to the shore only to go back. I don’t know when I fell asleep, the next morning I woke up to birds chirping and the waves lapping.
When I confronted father about his drunk night, he swore he had no recollection of it and that he was sorry because he meant none of the things he did and I believed him but that didn’t change my mind from locking my room every night thereafter.
I earned enough from the Russian Community of Dance and Music but it wasn’t enough to get me an affordable home for rent and meet my other demands every month without facing grave financial troubles that would end me up back on my father’s doorstep. On the other hand, I don’t believe I’m ready to move out and leave my father alone.
I left my work early today as all the students insisted to leave early due to their coming exams and Marie had no problem in understanding their crisis. Working in the Russian Community of Dance and Music wasn’t really why I went there. I wanted to master in piano but when the former pianist left and they had no other for that work, I volunteered. It was difficult to handle my part time work as a waiter in a small restaurant with bad customers who would comment shit about your good service and leave bad tips, and to master as a pianist. So when Marie gave me an option that I can work as well learn I knew I can’t let it go and grabbed the opportunity.
Soon I quit the job at the restaurant and started working full time, much to Marie’s contentment.
It felt good to see the kids dance as elegantly as my hands flowed freely and rhythmically on the keys. I enjoyed this work more than the other. Living in a two-storey house with dad earning good money is worth it, but I want to earn my own. Father was against it in the beginning. It took me hours to explain my father about my self-esteem and finally he agreed, reluctantly. It’s been 6 years working there and I’m not planning on leaving it.
I turned away from the beautiful sight and wore my black bellies. It’s six now, and by the time I reach home it’ll be dark.