Ryder

I said nothing to the girl who sat next to me, and to my surprise, she said nothing either. Her golden curls twisted around her face, playing against her cheek. She wore a white sundress, simple but elegant. She was only a few feet from me, staring out at the ocean like I was.

She wasn’t staring out, trying to figure out what I was looking at, as so many others had tried to do. She seemed to be looking at something of her own. I narrowed my eyes and returned my gaze to the sea to find what I was missing. No. I wasn’t missing anything. I have stared at this ocean more than anyone could realize.

The young girl still said nothing. I looked at her again, but she had her eyes trained on something that I obviously wasn’t seeing. She wasn’t too much younger than I was, seven or eight maybe. I shook my head and stood up. It was getting later, and dinner would be ready soon.

I thought about the strange girl as I walked home. I didn’t know her name, and she didn’t know mine. I wondered if I would ever meet with her again.

My house wasn’t too far from the beach, maybe a mile or so. I kept my head down as I got to my drive way. I knew the big white mansion loomed in front of me. I didn’t want to look at it. I walked along the stone path to the front door, taking care not to step on the grass. The grass that the gardeners worked so hard on. I didn’t look at the neatly trimmed hedges, or the perfect flower beds.

Inside wasn’t much better. I could almost see a perfect reflection in the waxed, hardwood floors. I walked past the expensive paintings, and the pointless vases, holding delicate flowers that were replaced everyday. When I got to the dining room, one of the maids was setting down the last fork into it’s place on the table. The plate and silverware looked small compared to the large table. I sighed and sat down in my chair. Once again, the table was set for one.