This ocean is huge; much too huge for one planet to contain. But I’m not too concerned about the size of the ocean, not when I’m angry with my family. They think their idea of sending me on a vacation was putting me on a cruise ship for a three month sea tour. If this is their idea of a summer vacation, then it’s a terrible idea indeed.
But as I continued to stare into the ocean, I began to wonder how much my family hated me. In my mind, they always wanted to get of me since I turned 12 years old and refused to conform to the role of being a boy. As punishment, I was sent to an all-boy’s boarding school and subjected to ridicule, which I could never tell the headmaster about for fear of punishment. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, seeing as I never wanted to be what I was born to be. But I don’t have much of a choice, or do I?
Anyway, I’m looking out into the ocean, wishing all my problems would hit an iceberg and sink to the bottom of the ocean like the Titanic. If that happen, I’d be happy. But I know that it’s never going to happen, not as long as I’m still alive.
And the sad thing is, not even God Himself can help me with this problem.
Prompt #31. A story set at sea.