Jasmine and the Sea

Jasmine stood motionless at the top of a great boulder wondering when the next salty breeze would pass by. She was confident that the sea would bring her another warm gust; she knew her hair would wave like a golden flag in the summer air once again. All she had to do was wait. The sea had always been good to Jasmine. It never loved her, but never hated her. It never came to her, but it never left her either. And for these reasons, Jasmine considered the sea to be her best friend. It saved her from her loneliness; the spirit of the sea splashed in the basin of her soul.

Sometimes Jasmine would sit on the sandy beach and listen to the roars of the crashing waves, the whispers of the rolling tide, and the gentle waters tap her bare feet. By simply listening, Jasmine felt the emotions of the sea. She felt the anger of the battling waves, the happy splashes of the rolling tide, and the sadness of a gentle, tapping tide. The sea knew that Jasmine loved it just by the way she sat on its sandy beach. Words never needed to be spoken. The hugs of rolling tides, the kisses of salty breezes, and the chatter of restless tides were always enough for Jasmine.

One day when Jasmine was walking to the beach, she noticed something odd. She couldn’t here any roaring waves or gentle tides. She couldn’t smell its salty breeze or feel the occasional warm gusts. Jasmine ran down to the beach only to find her friend murdered. A thick, black sludge floated on top of the sea like a giant scab. Jasmine started to cry for her friend, for the animals, for herself, for humanity. People can be so cruel, so mindless. The only person Jasmine could blame was herself; only humans could be so heartless, so irresponsible.

Jasmine was like a balloon inflating with hot rage. She stood on her friend’s grave with her fists squeezed, jaw clenched, body shaking, eyes watering, and heart broken. A sadistic light bulb turned on in Jasmine’s head. She would destroy all of humanity limb by limb, and brick by brick. She would reinforce her dad’s Jeep Grand Cherokee with seven inches of steel and bullet proof glass, attach a turret and a manhole to the top, and mow down every last sea murdering human being on the planet. Jasmine jolted home with a cruel grin on her teenage face. It wasn’t until she tore the hood off of her father’s car that Jasmine realized that she had no clue what she was doing. She entered a state of endless depression.

Jasmine remained inside her house for seven months. She said nothing. She felt nothing. She ate only enough food to keep the sad existence of herself alive. One day while staring at her white bedroom wall, Jasmine smelled something unusual; it reminded her of something strangely familiar. Her nostrils flared and tingled. She closed her eyes and followed. Eventually, Jasmine found herself standing at the feet of an old friend. The sea greeted her with an affectionate, salty breeze and a cool tide that ran over her feet. The sludge was gone, and Jasmine’s anger and depression lifted like a weight off her shoulders. She lay in the shallow water and talked to her long lost friend all night long.

The years passed on, and Jasmine moved away from her old friend. The hustle and bustle of the “real world” caught up with her, and she forgot about the peace and joy that the sea once gave her. Wet, manly kisses replaced warm, salty ones. A deep and raspy voice substituted the crashes of rolling tides. She married. She grew older. She decided to visit the house she grew up in, the house near the sea. When she arrived at the old memory of a house, she smelled a salty wisp. She followed it to her old friend. Jasmine was thirteen again. She was lying in a warm bed of sand. The sea was whispering to her and tickling her wrinkled feet. She laughed, she cried, she reminisced more. The world never felt more real and more like a dream when Jasmine was with the sea that day. Whether it was reality or fantasy, Jasmine knew she loved the sea, and it loved her back.