North-East FL
By Brianna Clark
Waves crash into the sand like a parent gives a child a little slap on the wrist, isn’t this how all kids are punished now?
Pulling and pushing against the solid, soaked substrate.
Taking more and more until eventually there will be no more to take.
***
Recently, someone in my writing class—someone who lives closer to the beach than me—did a creative nonfiction piece about the beach connecting to her family. But when I gave her feedback for it, I never really saw her connect herself. Only her family.
Personally, I’m not a fan of the beach.
• I don’t like how the sand invites itself onto my skin and into my clothes. Who gave it permission to do that in the first place? After it gets all cozy into my pockets, it intrudes into my home and I have to not only rid my body of it, but also my home.
How rude.
• Or how the sun turns my fair skin into something similar to a tomato.
I know it’s not trying to do it on purpose, but it’s just so painful. It leaves me restless and in pain. Again, who gave it permission to do it in the first place? Plus, I don't recall you being this hot a few years ago, so why decide to switch up now?
How rude.
• Or how the large body of saline water is always too rough.
I get that you’re known for your waves, but there's always a time and place for everything, and that's when I'm not around. I'm just trying to get used to the freezing water, and then you decide to start crashing into me and getting me wetter faster than I wanted. Now, while my lower body is finally starting to get used to things, you force me to soak my body fully in your murky, salty water.
How rude.
• Or how you can never keep yourself clean.
No matter when I come, you never fail to keep yourself dirty. You're always covered in litter. Don't you know how rude it is to have guests over in a dirty home, let lone have them there all the time? Even if they leave a mess behind, it's your job to clean up after them. No matter how many times I come, you never fail to shove more garbage into my face.
How rude.
No matter what, you never fail to disappoint me.
***
When I try to leave the beach, I’m always stuck in such large lines of traffic just to go home. Cars and cars are stacked up for miles sometimes even, fossil fuels slowly peeling away at the layers of the atmosphere.
That can’t be my problem though. I can’t even drive yet. I won't even be alive anymore once the planet caves in on itself, so why should it matter what I do to help? I mean, that is how everyone else thinks, so what's one person helping gonna do? It’s not like there's other people worried and helping out the environment as well or anything. Or like there's entire countries that have whole plans and customs for what they follow to help the environment.
I mean yeah, climate change is melting ice caps and stranding some of the animals in the Arctic, but it's not my problem. Right? Totally not like it's causing sea levels to rise. I mean, eventually there won't be a beach to complain about, so it's only helping me, right?
None of this is my problem,
right?
About the Author...
Brianna Clark, a writer for The Teen Magazine and the Video Production Manager of The Artisan, is a creative writing student from Douglas Anderson School of the Arts. She has been published in Folk Riot Literary Magazine, Hannah Book Designs Anthology, “Fragments of an Unquiet Mind,” and has had her short play, “Reset,” featured in the Red Moon Theater Festival. She has won the Remedy Poetry New Years Poetry contest and has hosted, not only an open mic, but a Lit Chat with New York Times Bestselling Author, Shannon Messenger.
About the Artist...
Jason Galub is an 11th grade Drawing and Painting major at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts. They like to experiment with acrylic paint to create fluidity, movement, and texture.