The Sea Noose

AN: I am the sole writer of this story. It is mine, no one elese. These are my characters. I own this story. Feedback is appriciated.

The Sea Noose


The air was sweet, with a bitter after taste. The salt of the sea hung around me like a noose. I walked slowly, my pace measured, down the thick, sandy beach along the shore. I looked out at the rolling waves, watching as they started crashing against the sand harder and harder, sounding like a beating heart speeding up in fear.

My arms wrapped around my waist tightly, my thin tank top doing nothing to keep the thick breeze from penetrating the fabric. My long cotton pants hung from my hips, my bare feet sinking into the sand as it roughly rubbed against my skin, barely soothing the ache on the ball of my foot. I blinked back several tears, my hand wiping at the few that spilt down my cheeks angrily. I silently cursed myself for letting myself cry.

I took one last look at the waves, crashing against the shore faster now in fear. My footsteps never faltered.


It was a warm day in the beginning of October, rather unusual for Washington, though not too warm to the point of irritation. The leaves were turning brown, yellow and dark gold. Overall, it was a pleasant day. There was no songs sung by the birds, no wind rustling the leaves as they hung from the branches with their last ounce of strength. The smell of burnt maple found it's way out side, onto the back porch.

I pushed the swinging seat back and forth gently, my foot barely brushing against the wooden floor. My movements slow and unrushed. The new scent of maple pricked at my nose as my lung inhaled the smell. My mind was unworried about the tortured wood that died to create such an intoxicating aroma. My eyes fell closed of their own will, coaxing my head to rest against the back of my swing. The crashing of the waves in the background teased my ears in whispers.

Goosebumps ran up my legs, a shiver up my spine. My hand was splayed against my thigh, my fingers deftly stroking my snug, cotton pajama pants. My other hand was resting on my foot, one of my legs was pulled up to my chest. My breathing was deep and even. If someone were too look upon me, they would have thought me asleep.

I stretched, arching my back, my arms reaching above me. I pulled my other leg up and layed down on my side. The swing slowed, my foot was no longer keeping it moving. My eyes were half-lidded as I look out, over my balcony-like back porch, into the world in front of me. After a few feet, the porch ended. The border was surrounded by a simple maple wood fence.

In front of the fence, there was tall, golden grass, swaying in the breeze. If you looked closely, you would be able to see a worn stone path was nestled within the grass. If you followed that path, you'd be led to the sandy beaches of the shore and the rolling waves.

I've been down that path countless times. The sea shells I've found adorned a wall in my bedroom, a fishing net used as a border. The shells were all shapes and sizes and colors, too. I would dye a couple shells either dark blue or dark purple and blend them in with the others. You were able to find so many shells walking along the beach. Especially when the sun is peaking through the clouds in some places. You'd never know what shell would reflect the light back at you, giving you another treasure to collect.

I shifted around on the swing, pulling the blanket from underneath me and draping it around me. I sighed and closed my eyes once more, listening to the sound of the sea in the background. I curled up slightly, tightening the blanket around me, keeping warm. I looked out into the swaying grass, watching as the golden blades moved with the wind. A small smile graced my features when I saw the tip of a black tail bobbing between the grass.

My smile grew when I finally saw the owner of that tail. A black Labrador retriever bounded up to the fence and sat down. I whistled softly and he nosed the latch up, opening the gate. Once he wriggled through the small opening he made he way over to me, gently licking my cheek in greeting. I patted his head, scratching behind his ears. His tail wagged with pleasure, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. I looked up again when I heard the footsteps of his owner on the stone path.

“Good morning, Kassandra.” he talked with a mild Irish accent. He smiled at me kindly, his hands in his jacket pockets. I smiled back.

“Good morning, Cian. How have you been?” he walked on to my porch, taking a seat next to my swing.

“I've been doing just fine. What about you?”

“Oh, I've been so-so.” he chuckled softly, a warm, rich sound.

“Aye, that's how most people are nowadays.” I smiled brightly at him, patting his new dog once more.

“Where'd this guy come from, huh?” Cian reached out, patting his back firmly.

“I found this lil' fella in the shelter. He was just so friendly. I couldn't resist.” the affection in his tone made his accent stronger, his voice thicker. I scratched underneath his chin.

“He sure is friendly. Have you picked out a name for him?” he shook his head.

“No, I haven't. I was hoping you could help me. You seem to always know the right name to pick for my new pets.” he grinned at me. I rolled my eyes playfully and laughed softly.

“No, you just don't want to use that small brain of yours. You might hurt yourself.” he laughed again, the rich sound filled the air and hung around us, comfortable and warm.

“Yes, Kassy, that's it.” he winked at me and I laughed once more. I shook my head and sat up, tucking a leg underneath me. I patted the empty space next to me and smiled as the new dog jumped up enthusiastically. I rubbed his side and he rolled over, his head coming to rest on my leg. I considered some possible names as I looked down upon him.

“Hmm... you know, Cian, I think we have a Vitas here.” the dog wagged his tail, and licked at my hand, trying to get me to start petting him again. I smiled and started rubbing his belly, laughing when his leg started kicking. Cian smiled.

“Vitas. I like it. I think you've picked out the right name for him, Kassy.” I smiled over at him, giving the newly named Vitas one last pat before nudging him down to the ground once more. He whined, nosing my hand for more attention. I stood up, shedding the blanket as if i were a snake. I shivered. Wrapping my arms around me, i tilted my head towards the house.

“Care to join me for some tea?” he smiled warmly.

“Are you sure you wouldn't mind Vitas in your home? He might chew something of yours up.” I shrugged.

“I could give him something to chew on, you know I wouldn't mind.” I opened my back door and looked at him

“Only if you're sure.” I nodded.

“I am.” I whistled once and Vitas happily bounded through the door, started a new exploration. Cian stood and followed Vitas, keeping an eye on him. I closed the door behind me and headed down the small hallway. The walls here scattered with pictures and drawings. At the end of the hall, it curved off towards the left, heading to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Before that, there were two doors, one leading to the kitchen, the other to the living room. Cian and Vitas were making themselves comfortable, Cian sitting on the couch, Vitas lying in front of the fireplace.

“I'll be right there, Cian. I left some water on the stove, so it should be perfect for tea now. Earl Grey, right?”

“Aye.” I wandered into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, along with the Earl Grey teabags. I poured the hot water from the tea kettle into the mugs and put the kettle back down on the stove top.

The bags were placed in the liquid hell, they sank to the bottom. I turned the stove off and carried the two mugs into the living room. Vitas looked up at me and wagged his tail in greeting. I set the mugs on the table in front of the couch and i sat next to Cian, tucking a leg underneath me.

“We should let them cool for a few minutes.” he nodded and silents grasped my hand, lacing our fingers together like we were innocent teenagers. I rested my head on his shoulder, leaning into him.

“Thank you for the tea Kassandra.”

“Don't mention it.” his thumb stroked the back of my hand, our eyes focused on the crackling fire, the source of the intoxicating scent of burning maple wood. Vitas huffed softly and dozed on his side, occasionally turning over to spread the warmth evenly.

Cian and I sat there for the rest of the day, the two of us only moving to put anther log in the fire or to get Vitas something to eat. Our mugs of tea stayed on the table, forgotten.