Ryder

Name: Ryder Colton
Ability: Water manipulation
Looks: sandy blond hair, deep sea green eyes that are always deep in thought or serious. Light freckles along the bridge of his nose and under his eyes.
Age: 9 years old
Personality: Serious and mature for his age. Goes to the beach a lot, but never plays or talks much to other people. ______________________________________________________

I stared at the green-blue waves as they rose and then crashed into white foam. Water raced up the beach, only to fall back a few inches before touching my feet. Each soft sound of another crashing wave filled my soul with the smell of salt water. I breathed it in. My elbows rested carefully on my upright knees, and I stared at the horizon. Today, a pale gray sky met the deep blue of the ocean. The sun was hidden somewhere behind the blanket of gray. Not many people littered my beach today. A few couples walked barefooted, hand in hand. A small family with a young kid, throwing around a ball. I heard their laughter. My eyes left the horizon and I stared straight up at the sky, silently begging for it to rain. They would leave if it rained.

I waited, staring at the sky. It didn’t answer my begging. The blank gray sky gave no sign that it would let single drop of rain fall. I stared for a long time until a colorful beach ball rolled into a wave a few feet away from me. Following the ball, a boy with dark curly hair raced after it. He was giggling almost uncontrollably, and he splashed into the water and snatched up his ball. When he turned I saw that he had brown eyes and rosy cheeks. He seemed around 6 years old. His giggling quieted and he stood there, looking at me.

“ Wanna play too?” He asked.

“ No.” I answered simply, turning back to the endless ocean. The boy pouted, and stared at me.

“ Why are you dressed weird?” He muttered, his frown deepening. I glanced down at my clothes. I was wearing a dark gray sweatshirt, a pair of faded jeans and sneakers.

“ I’m not.” I told him, casting my serious eyes over his beach clothes.

“ Yes you are!” He whined. “ Those aren’t beach clothes!” I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to waste my time arguing with him. I came to my beach to be alone. Not to swim, or play in the sand. The boy stared at me, waiting for an answer. His parents called to him, and he finally lost interest and pranced back up the beach. My beach.

I focused my attention back onto the waves. I could sit there forever if I wanted to, but I knew I had to be home in time for dinner. Rebecca had given up on constantly chasing after me all the time, but she got angry if I missed dinner. I guess I should be happy that none of the housekeepers or nannies follow me around anymore. I have alone time now. Sure, I was only 9 years old… but I didn’t need them babysitting me. I didn’t WANT them babysitting me. Rebecca was specifically in charge of knowing where I was, making sure I was eating my dinner, and getting to bed on time.

But I got sick of doing everything everyone told me to do. I hated being trapped in my own house… so I left. I went down to the beach. Everyday. I needed to escape. Rebecca followed me at first. She came and yelled at me a lot, and told me I had to come back. After a while, she gave up. It wasn’t a surprise, really. Everyone gives up on me at some point.