The Sea Of Protection

• Evie Rae, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2022

The sky was grey, swirling with clouds. A flat rock poked out the side of a larger collection of pointy spines of stone. The surface was damp with mildew and crusted sea salt. A handful of surfers were atop this ledge, clutching freshly wet boards. I reared up, slamming against the edge of the rock sending a spray of water through the air. They stepped back from the ledge watching the speckles of water runoff in rivulets. The clouds started sobbing, tears pounding down on the sensitive human skin. Gumtrees waved to me from the tops of heavy sandbanks. I growled angrily, pounding the shore with rippling white waves. Thundering loudly I raced towards the beach growing louder and louder the closer I got to the rock. Rising above any natural height of waves, I released my anger upon the people. I sucked them in snapping their boards in two, rolling them around like a kitten with a ball of yarn. My fellow friend, the current, latched on to them ignoring their screams of distress and kicking legs. Current pulls them out into the dark and then it's my turn. I push them up above the waves, sending them over the top and plunging into the icy black.

I could call for the creatures of the sea. Sharks perhaps, or maybe I should call a whale to swallow them whole. They reach out their hands and take great swallows of air. My wave crashed upon them pushing them again into the blueness of my heart. People probably thought the sea was a kind friendly water source rather than a powerful beast that most elements fear. The current steals them from me and takes them out further once more. We wait in silence for a sign of life…nothing. The current calms and swims back to the shore, flinging grains of sand in its wake. The wind calms and the whining clouds quiet and move on, whispering loudly. I launch to the shore letting my waves control themselves. The surfer's boards huddle together, chunks of wood and paint missing. I cup them in my watery grasp and drag them to the shore. The sun had peeped out, shining through my spine illuminating the small, flitting creatures in my stomach. More peculiar humans had arrived and were carelessly doing what their odd kind always did. Litter. Rubbish dotted the shores. I furiously lunge forwards pushing them further up the sand. A smaller human clung to a larger human. I thrum curiously and back up splashing their thighs with tiny milky-white droplets. The larger human pulls something from her pocket and flung it into the water, strolling onward. I twist around the object glaring at it anxiously. It was clear and wriggled like a jellyfish. Sinking underneath it, I push it out of my body onto the sand. I didn't trust it. I saw a turtle eat it once. They didn't survive long. People go missing in the sea and humans wonder why.