Writing by Justin Rands
Pictured: J. A. Tyler (the one crying on the right)
I’m still lost in the dream last night.
I can’t feel my face.
Something’s changed in me.
I was stuck on the boat with my father and sharks were everywhere.
My father stared off into space and steered and didn’t pay attention to them, or me.
He was lost, and we were lost at sea, with nothing in sight but the water and our death. But he wasn’t moving.
He stood there, one hand steering, the other hanging limply at his side.
His light khakis stretched out with his foot up on the side of the metal pole lining the boat.
Thick beard, scraggly, not trimmed.
Intimidating.
No lifejacket.
I wondered who he was.
My yellow lifejacket was a bit too big for me and I kept pulling it down around my head and shoulders to keep it in place.
I held onto it for dear life.
I could see the sharks.
They were everywhere.
Leaping out of the water sometimes, their gigantic bodies flailing in the sky.
I could hear them whispering.
I cannot speak.
Only think.
I can feel the clouds pressing against my face.
I know I am too small to do anything for myself yet.
I am curious how much longer this can go on.
How we can survive.
I finally started to feel fear.
I finally started to feel weak.
I wonder if this feeling ends, or how I can control it.
My name, what is my name.
It is loud.
Yelling.
I am back here, in this place.
This place is so strange.
Everything is so strange.
I can still hear the whispers.
Why do I have this hat on?
Where am I?
Oh God….
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