Recently this beautiful piece of writing turned up in our inbox. We think that the message in this story is inspirational and touching.
Have a read if you have ever struggled to be yourself, stand up to others or been faced with bullies.
SKYE’S STORYÂ WRITTEN BY HALEY VULETA
Skye sat on the edge of the world, her legs were piece’s of tangled string, dangling freely in the breeze. Strands of her copper hair cascaded softly down her back. Her china blue eyes glistened with hope. Far below her the world was spread out like a large oil painting, and to her left the endless sea sparkled, as the rocks pieced the aquamarine waves.
Glowing golden pinks, shimmered across the sky. Skye balanced on the steeple of her surfing board, the seabed looking up at her like a world surveillance camera. The rythmic waves jostled around Skye boxing her into the ripples of the shore.
Skye lodged her board out of the mystic ocean, her wetsuit clinging to her in a wild rash, Skyes hair crawled down her back dripping in thick tendrils, dropping fat drops of salty water onto the footpath. As Skye walked home she let her worries wash over her, her doubts squelch into the sand. When Skye was surfing nothing else mattered.
All of a sudden metal doors clanged shut, reading ‘Humbletin High School’ echoes of loud voices bounced off the corridors blistering down the halls. Skye’s copper hair flowed down her back, her white lace dress brittle in the indoor breeze. A vigilant look scarred across Skyes face as long-term enemy Brittany Harris stopped dead in the eyes of Skye.
The rest of the day didn’t follow well for Skye as Brittany cornered her every step. The fact that Skye was an orphan became an instant prodding target. That night Skye lay cautious watching her breathe hover in rings above her. Varnish purple painted the sky, the pearl of night shining through the curtains, spilling plural light into the room.
At the early rise of dawn, Skye dashed out to the beach, which was not so far from her foster home. Skye felt safe at the beach, like her only get away, as if the ocean could understand her. The crumbling surf was high and the sun beamed on the sand. A strip of blue covered the sky, the birds chirping happily, the world was not awake yet.
Skye was free, free of bullies and any creature that could disturb her peace. Skye was no ordinary girl, shy and fragile an orphan. But one thing Skye found herself enjoying was surfing. Like there was a special connection between Skye and the waves. A distant calling but whatever it was, it was a connection that only Skye could understand.
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