Whispers in the Waves

By Ella Schott, h. s. junior, Connecticut

When she first arrived in the small town, she realized how much quieter life was on this side of the world. Everything moved slower in a village that was cradled by the ocean, rocked to sleep every night by its gentle lull. There was a rhythm to life in a world so remote from everything that moves to tick of a stopwatch. Milliseconds and seconds dividing up the days until life is fragmented, shattered by time. To some it is a mosaic, but others can’t swallow the shards.

Few nervous tics remained with her, the scratching at her ears, rubbing of her eyes, clicking of her fingernails. She could walk in silence without the need for a drone in her ears. When she first found herself able to exist in the silence, she was brought to tears.  

One afternoon she wandered down to the shore, stripped off her sandals and made her way into the open arms of the ocean.  

Since she was a little girl, and her family first visited the ocean, she could hear the waves calling to her. She had lived by a beach, but this was the real ocean, not one gripped by land.  

Dancing with the waves, back and forth, the foam playing at her feet. Finally, she gave in, picking up her skirt and running full force against the waves. When she was little her mother would try to hold her hand, pull her away from the rapture of the waves. Her mother would explain that one should wait until the waves receded, then dash for deeper water. But she always plunged in just when she knew she might be knocked down, when the sea was beckoning to her with curling foam.

She reveled in the thump of the wave against her torso. A few more steps and she dove under the wave, eyes pressed tightly together. When she emerged, she could float on her back on waves that were yet to be born.  

Lying there, she watched the sun crisp the tops of the waves, closing her eyes every so often. The ocean wrapped its soothing fingers around her.  

I wish I could lay here forever.  

—Caecilia (Ella) Schott, high school junior, Connecticut. She writes:
“I am an avid writer. My cultural background is German and Norwegian, but my family has been in America for a long time. I speak English and recently earned my seal of bi-literacy in French for speaking, reading, and writing… I find comfort and companionship in animals. I also foster cats, and volunteer at my local pet store. My dream is to become a professor of English and History. I was inspired to write this short story by my own connection with nature, and fear of losing it.”