Drowning Ocean

Chapter 1

Etretat, France...

           Journal entry #274

I'm on my last month of le voyage vers mon train de Minuit. I am now in Etretat. This is my third day here. I brought my guitar, a notebook, and a few snacks to satisfy my hunger throughout the afternoon. I found a cliff where I can scream at the top of my lungs. A cliff where I can write. A cliff where I can peacefully reminisce that forgotten joy. A cliff where I can spend time looking at this sleepless ocean. Unknown of my tomorrow, I just want to spend my numbered days, trying to relieve myself from this misery that keeps on sinking me. It will just be 31 days left. Nothing has changed. I am still in the dark. I am still in this sorrow. The Conductrice Keres was right. I am bound for this. I am too deep to be rescued. And she was right. The only way for me to breathe is to escape. And the only escape would be following the midnight train.

I paused on writing, and drew my attention to the comforting breeze that gently lingered past me. All my life, whenever I want to be alone, the shores would always be my refuge.

This is where I find solace. The noise of the oceans seems to tickle my ears with whispers my soul can only understand. Whispers about its power to calm the storm inside me.

dug, dug, dug

Since the first day I landed on France, a distinct heartbeat came alive from my heart. It was a heartbeat I'd never known. These past three days, my soul began to be weaker. I guess, my body recognizes that I am almost to the end.

But this heartbeat just makes my stay here lots of curves and colors. I felt my soul clinging for it. I felt my system depending on it.

Another breeze touched my skin. I closed my eyes for a moment. Picturing a figure out of my emotions. I couldn't sleep because of this. And whenever I would see a glimpse of its eye, the figure vanishes. So I'll have to start over again. And just like now, it vanished from my mind.

dug, dug, dug.

Argh! This damn heartbeat drives me crazy!

I reached for my guitar and plucked a few strings.

"Hmmm," I tried to sing the melody my guitar plays.

I closed my eyes as I listen to music. And as if my guitar is in harmony with the ocean, the roars of waves brought to shore, the wind whispers to my ears, I played the chord D. Then followed by Em. I just love the rhythm that I began to let my heart speak out...

You call me out upon the deep,

You're my great unknown, where feet may fail

And there I find you in the mystery...

In oceans deep,

My love will stand...

And I will call upon-

I was interrupted by a familiar breeze that swept past me. I knew it was her. I stopped playing, for the world seemed to freeze. A sudden chill crawled inside me. She has an ambiance that will make you afraid. Afraid to dare to talk to her. She will just appear suddenly without your expectation.

"A wonderful morning to you dear Zale," I still closed my eyes, feeling her presence in front of me.

"It seems you have followed my instruction to have a quiet time in the morning." I faked a smile.

She seemed to be satisfied that she began to trace my jawline with her sharp nail. It created to send me an unexplainable fear building up inside me. It seems she doesn't want me to break off any rules from this le voyage vers mon train de Minuit.

"Parmi les gens qui sont entres dans ce voyage, tu es ma cherie preferee, (among the people that have entered this voyage, you are my favorite dear)" she whispered in my ears.

"Merci, Conductrice Keres, (Thank you Conductress Keres)" She gazed away, then looked to the journal.

"il semble queue vous ecrivez activement dans le journal. Ca a l'air triste. J'aime cela. Tu es presque pret (it seems you are actively writing in the journal. It looks sad. I love it. You are almost ready.)"

'Tu es Presque pret,' those words seem to be ringing in my mind. 'Am I ready?'

"Now remember Zale, you must write everything in the journal. Every emotion you felt. Every sadness that brings you closer to your midnight train. N'essaye jamais de mentir iha, (never attempt to lie iha).

"Oui Conductrice (yes conductress)" And from there, she vanished to thin air.

The atmosphere became soft and light again. I began to breathe normally.

I actually noticed that whenever the conductrice would appear, it was as if time would stop. The world would turn to a sudden hush. And all I can see is just black and gray. No red, no orange, no yellow, not even purple. Just black and gray. And after she disappears, everything would be colorful again. I haven't written it down in the journal though. I guess she knows it from herself, that I'm a bit afraid of her.

I continued writing in the journal.

The Conductrice Keres visited me. Around 9:45 in the morning. I was playing the guitar back then. She suddenly appeared. I thank her for reminding me that I'm almost there. My doubts fade little by little, and I am reassured about what am I doing. I'm still here on the famous cliffs Etretat could offer. And, it just feels good, to be here...

I grabbed my guitar once again and continue to write the song.

Lead me where my love is without borders

Let me depend on your breath

Wherever you would call me

There will I hope on your promises.

Dive me deeper in the midst of this ocean

That I will never escape this feeling,

This love that will drown me

Into your arms forever.

Take me deeper than I could ever wander

Take my liberty to leave you

Give me breath as I dive down deeper

Don't leave me in this vast dark ocean...

As the last few strums played, there was a sudden memory jolted from my mind. Tears started to fall again. I just hate it when tears fall. But it is a sign of comfort to me. I can burst my sadness silently, and quietly. I timidly closed my eyes to remember the very scenes...

_FLASHBACK_

"Here we go again Zale,"

Mom gave up on the argument when I popped up a very old topic that has been hung and almost forgotten.

"Mom," tears are starting to swell up, and blurs my mama who turned her back. Again.

"WHAT?!" She screamed. I can see her trying to move on from my question. I can see the pain in her eyes whenever I come back to that unspoken truth.

"Why can't you just answer me?! I just want everything to be clear. I want to be complete. All my life I've named myself as broken. And I want to know why! I want to know why!" I burst out.

I can still remember the day I saw an old photograph. I was 15 I guess. It was the start of my brokenness. I started to feel something is missing. Something is wrong. About me. About my family. About mom.

"What was the photograph about?!" I lost my temper. I badly thirst for truth right now. And it's damn killing me every second that I just want to quit.

"Darling," she attempted to come near me and touched my arm.

"Regardez nous sommes heureux. Voila tout ce qui compte. Le passe- (Look, we are happy. That is all that matters. The past-)

"Tu es le seul a etre heureux! (you are the only one who is happy!) I am never happy since the day you lied to me!" I take away my hands off from her grasp. I saw a look of frustration and sadness from her eyes. She looked down on shame.

Since this confrontation turned out to be a rotten argument, I headed upstairs, giving my mother a daring look. I banged the door behind me, then jumped to my bed. I stared at the ceiling blankly, tears are still running down. A simple girl like me did not expect a sudden change.

_END OF FLASHBACK_

"It was more fun in Chicago..." I often state in my mind. 

It was so unexpected that mom had married a French man. I was still 2 back then, so I was left with no choice but to follow where mom goes. And there, I learned that dad is a billionaire. I am happy, of course. With a childish mind, all I want before was tons of toys, dolls, Christmas presents, and food. I was happy and satisfied back then.

We migrated to Chicago where I can spend all my days there with dad. He works at home, so I had the privilege to be with my dad. Dad is my friend. Instead of mom telling me bedtime stories, he was the one who sings a lullaby for me. I felt security and comfort from his large and dark voice. But everything seems to go dimmer when he passed away. My mom decided to move back to France and leave Chicago.

"How I wish dad, how I wish you are here..." I mumbled, making me taste a bitter tear.

Instead of playing back my guitar, I grabbed the journal and continued,

I suddenly remembered the passing away of my dad. I remembered the old photograph I saw. It is not the dad who sings me lullaby every night. It was

I stopped writing when I sensed someone is also there. I looked up, then looked to my right. There, not very distant, I see a man viewing the vast ocean set before us. He seems to close his eyes and felt the sound of the thrashing of waves. I smiled from afar.

he suddenly looked to where I am. A flash of red displayed in my cheeks. I suddenly looked away, thinking of the shame I have caused myself.

"Darn it!! Did he just saw me staring at him?!" 

I grasp my pen tightly, nervous if he noticed me and if he would come over to see me.

A few moments later, I didn't hear anything except for the waves. I breathed heavily. I tried to look to his direction and realized that I did a such mistake.

Panic was all over my body. Unfortunately, instead of going away, my body responded to staying frozen from my seat.

"Hey!!" he is running towards me.

I closed my eyes in relief.

A simple smile escaped my lips.

Thanks to the sun who does its job well for this noon.

It has listened to my song.

It has dried up my tears....

dug dug dug...