Break Through

As he stood on shore, watching the waves pound against each other, he couldn't help but feel a rise of nerves in his chest.

He was having second thoughts.

The seas was angry. Beating against itself. Thrashing more violently than he could remember in the last few years. He could barely hear himself think over their crashing. Roaring into the air - a static unlike anything he had ever heard. Like a thousand radios out of tune - clashing against each others' frequencies, screeching up towards the overcast sky. As the mist from the churning waves rose into the air, the strong gusts of wind blowing in from over the water swept it in towards the land. Whipping up the loose sand along the way and plastering it against his body. Stinging his skin wherever it wasn't protected. As if an angry swarm of bees flew by every couple seconds. It didn't take long for little welts to appear and his complexion to become a bright red. He had to hold a hand up to his eyes, straining against the particles - protecting himself from their wrath. In a matter of minutes he had become covered in a fine layer of silt - sticking to his clothing, digging into his hair, even finding its way into his mouth - gritting between his teeth.

When he was younger, he used to come down to the beach to escape the world around him. Losing himself amongst the dunes, letting the sand flow between his toes, the sound of the waves drowning out the thoughts in his head. But when things had gotten really bad, he used to run into the water. Diving beneath the surface, letting the ocean hold him tight. He cherished the feeling of floating. As if he was flying. Invincible from everything else. When he was floating amongst the waves, face to the sky, he'd let his ears drift below the surface - the churning of the water around him echoing into his brain, its white noise washing away anything that didn't need to be there.

But on certain days, residing on the surface just wasn't enough. So he'd take a few deep breaths and dive down, as far as he could. Until he'd hit the bottom or the pressure was too much for his ears to handle. Then he'd just float there. Free from everything. From the world above the waves. The noises. The bright sunlight. He could just close his eyes and drift in the void.

Yet today, he wasn't sure if he wanted to get into the water. Even go near it. They were the types of waves that looked as if they would never let go. Grab him by the ankles and drag him deeper and deeper, holding him down even when his lungs were burning, demanding for fresh air. Churning him along the bottom. He'd have to struggle to break through the surface. To breath again. But as he stood there, looking on, it struck him. Maybe thats what he needed. A fight.

To prove himself.