FISH
The first time I ever saw the ocean, it dull. Well, not in the experience way, but more in the weather way. It was cloudy, I think. I remember holding the hand of someone I assume to be my father. Not that I remember much.
It was nice. Calm. I do recall this sinking feeling though, the one that makes you feel awful even though nothing really happened yet. So as I stared up at the grey clouds above, I wondered: "have I been here before?".
I recall falling. Well, it's not super easy to forget scars that stay on the body. I remember we walked along these rocks carpeted in seaweed and these little jet-black mussels. It smelt of rot and decay, yet the sea made it somewhat tolerable to be there.
Well, obviouly I ended up falling. The scars have long faded to white but I can still see them. I still vividly remembered the bubbly fat peeking out from the bottom of the wound and being told to suck it up and keep walking after the man splashed water onto my wounds.
From then on, I think I avoided rocky areas like those. I've ended up having a fear of shell-covered surfaces for a while, because who knows when i'll once again be sliced open by a thousand blades. When I look at this now, I find it quite ridiculous that one would be afraid of such things, but most fears have a reason and my reason is just something simple in my past.
I think something is wrong I can't remember his face