Boat
It creaked silently, so soft that no one bothered, except for one. This was the way it was, and always would be, with no one bothering, no one bothering, no one caring, except for one. It had been used since the day it was made, for that was the day when it was sold. It was a beauty back then, strong-willed, and independent. It had smelled of paint, wood, and metal. It still did, if you lay down on the floor, with your nose stuck in the wood panels. But no one bothered to, except for one, because no one cared. They took it for granted, as if it was their right, to be able to sail in it for as long as they wanted to, day after day, month after month, and year after year. It remembered fondly when it was made, so lovingly, so elegantly, by the young carpenter. He had made her feel like royalty, the way he sanded her rough edges, softly, yet firmly scraping them, making sure no harm would come to any part of her. He had made her feel so special, the way he held the brush, at exactly the perfect angle, so not even a drop of extra paint would fall on her. It let out a scream of frustration. It let out all the hope and love she used to have, and finally gave up. The boat started to sink. Finally more than one would bother, more than one would care.
She was a beautiful girl, with long blond hair which intertwined around in a single braid that went down to her waist. She smelt of vanilla, and the same shade of white was her beautiful, yet plain, dress. Her eyes were the color of emeralds, and they sparkled just as brightly as the jewel itself. She wore nothing to cover her natural face. She stood by the rail, running her fingers on the slender piece of metal that prevented so many people from falling. She had no one, no parents, and no siblings. The only person she had was an old lady who never kept up with the latest trends, and therefore, could never show her face in public.
The girls name was Isabelle, daughter, sister, orphan, alone. She was an outspoken young lady. She was something everyone hated, for she spoke her beliefs. She claimed to know nothing worth knowing. She claimed she didn't need anything, or anyone, to survive. She claimed everything false that she thought was true.
She felt the boat creak underneath her; almost silently, but certainly there. She willed the boat to support everyone's massive weight for a few more hours, so she could return to her guardian's house, there she could rest. Her parents had died when she was five. Her sister had died of the flu five years ago.
Isabelle didn't believe in friendship, she believed in acquaintances. She never let anyone close to her, she didn't need them. After all, what good is a friend if they really despise you? It didn't make sense to her.
All of a sudden, the top of the boat started to get closer to the ocean. She heard screams rippling through the whole boat, and stayed calm. She started helping the children who had older siblings onto the small lifeboats first, for it made sense to save the people who would take care of the children, as well as the children themselves. There were only ten lifeboats, and each could seat twenty people. That meant only 200 people could be saved. There were 300 people on board. Suddenly, the boat tilted back, lurching Isabelle backwards. Her back cracked against the thin rail, and she plummeted into the ocean with no emotions, and without any pain. All in all, 200 people, including Isabelle, died.
At home, her guardian received the news with tears. No matter how cruel and indifferent Isabelle was, she needed her. No matter how much Isabelle claimed to need no one, her guardian needed her. As she put all of Isabelle's clothes in a trunk, she whispered with tears running down her face, "Bless you my dear child, and May you go to heaven."
As for the boat, it was happy to be in the depths of the ocean, for causing the misery of the very people that had caused it misery. Revenge was sweet.
Her guardian lived in a very large, very grand house. The outside was made of marble; the sinks were made of silver. She had shared this house with Isabelle for five joyful years, and then five painful years. Now she shared it with no one. She used to have large, elaborate parties, now she had none. She had white hair, curly and short, and it smelled of vanilla. She had a strong body that looked frail. She was tall, proud, and eccentric. She was sad, lonely, and tired.
Five months after the sea claimed the orphan’s life, there came a knock in five months. Today would have been Isabelle’s seventeenth birthday.
“Beauty she was.” Her guardian stammered out, trying to stop the tears from flowing down her delicate face. Her neighbors were over, three adults, two women, one man. They nodded in sympathy. One lady spoke then and there,
“I have two nephews whose parents are looking for someone to take care of them during the summer.”
The plan was set in motion that day. The two boys, Andrew and Kennedy, would come live with the guardian or the summer. It was five days away. When they came, the plan would be to teach them proper etiquette.
Their knock was faint against the solid wood door, but it echoed and rippled in the large, empty house. The guardian walked calmly to the door, but inside, she was shaking with fear. What if the boys were like Isabelle, kind at first, but then becoming cruel and indifferent? What if she didn’t like them? More importantly, what if they didn’t like her? As she opened the door, she shoved the thoughts aside, and painted a look of indifference on her face.
The summer passed by quickly. Together, the guardian and the two children grew. They learned together, and laughed together, and loved each other together. They told each other stories about the past, and they dreamed of the future, including each other in their fantasies that would never come true. The guardian dreamed of living in a cramped home, with no space to breathe, and having a beautiful garden, like a farmer. Andrew dreamed of being an astronaut, like so many other little children did. Kennedy dreamed of more. He wanted to be a painter, or a photographer, to capture beauty everywhere and anywhere. The guardian told the boys that no matter where they went, she would be proud of them.
The guardian always talked about a girl named Isabelle to the children. She told them she was beautiful. She told them that Isabelle had long blond hair and sharp green eyes that noticed every single movement. She told them about how, when Isabelle’s parents died, she came and lived the guardian. The guardian was Isabelle’s aunt.
The guardian told them that Isabelle and her younger sister, Zoë had lived with her for about five years. Zoë was the life of the party, young and energetic. Zoë had blue eyes, the color of a sick and contaminated ocean, and dark brown hair. She constantly smelled of the salt water, since she was always in the pond that was behind the house. Isabelle was fiercely protective of her.
The guardian told Andrew and Kennedy about how when Zoë obtained pneumonia, Isabelle started changing. She started becoming more bitter, and angry. She blamed the guardian when Zoë died three months after acquiring the deadly illness. After that, Isabelle made sure that the guardian could never show her face again by never allowing her to buy new, trendy clothes. Isabelle started being ruder, until the point where she had no more friends to lose. Everyone stated to despise because she said everything true that could hurt a person. She never complimented anyone but herself. She was vain, stupid, and even though she had a beautiful face and figure, she was ugly and dirty. They despised her for who she had become. Except the guardian: She still loved Isabelle with all her heart.
The summer passed by quickly, with every minute being remembered. Andrew and Kennedy learned a lot about themselves. They learned how much of a treasure they were to certain people, like the guardian. They also learned how much of a burden they were to others, like their parents. They learned how to love unconditionally, the way the guardian did, even when she was impatient with them. They learned how to control their anger. They learned how to set their differences aside. They learned proper etiquette.
All throughout the summer, Andrew and Kennedy never learned the guardian’s name. The first month, they had begged and pleaded with her. She simply smiled and shook her head no. The second month, they didn’t beg and plead quite as much, but it was still a bit of a nuisance, so the guardian gave them a clue.
“It is what all of us have when we grow up, it is what we live for, it is the way we live.” The third month, they didn’t ask at all. They had grown tired and weary of her riddle; they puzzled over it for hours at a time. They had learned that the guardian would tell them when she was ready. The guardian smiled, she had taught them to be patient.
On their last day with the guardian, Andrew and Kennedy celebrated their birthday with a little bit of cake and milk. They had their suitcases packed and they were standing outside the door, looking up at her soft face, that had nothing painted on, but her true emotions, with a natural grin, and tears falling from her eyes. This reminded her so much of the first day she had met the boys, how she had fallen in love with their rosy cheeks, and dimples, and their brown curly hair, with matching eyes. Now she wouldn’t see them until next summer.
The boys were staring at her with tears of their owns, though they didn’t let them spill out of their large eyes, for they knew a man should never cry, no matter what. They remembered the first day of summer, when they were tired, but they knew they would be in good hands, for they saw the concern and love in their precious guardian’s eyes. They wouldn’t see her for a few moths, until next summer.
The guardian was holding a small pouch with a drawstring on it. She now pulled the drawstring, and revealed two small miniature boats. And she closed the door. She couldn’t bear the sight of them leaving. Andrew and Kennedy sat on the steps of her house and examined their boats. Kennedy’s boat had a different name that Andrews did. Kennedy’s boat name was My Name Is. Andrew’s boat read Hope.
