The worst things in life come free to us

The fun had worn off, the laughs faded, the anger rising- she left before they would wake and it would be noticed. Dark hazy eyes, misled by what was thought to be a light. Morning, but hours before the sun would climb. Slammed gates, barefoot, purple sports bra and black shorts just above mid thigh storming towards the sea. Those two songs on replay in her mind, the past not lingering too far behind, grace drowning without an offer. Quiet mumbles and shuffling feet, innocent shells fiercely sent into the unknown, assailing waves crashing as she. Gravity as well as everything else keeping her down. She was having one of those uncontrollable fights with herself.. the raging, tear wrought thoughts clawing to break free and doing as they pleased. Composing herself for just a moment as the giddy group stumbled by. Sand clenched in both fists, teeth gritting, hair loosening, eyes bared. The eyes. Unsightly and startling but the true window to her soul. The pier about a mile off to the left, she started. A pen and paper could do no justice this time. Throwing the blame as far away as she could but knowing where it truly lie. Shells and rocks bruising her feet unnoted for the night, the slap of wet sand beneath her, the wind whistling without a care. At less than arms length from the salt worn stalks of wood carrying the weight of the pier, she stopped. Anger fading now, giving in. She surrendered to the pier, collapsing with her back against the third one from the shore, accepting that time would always be her opponent and it would always win. It could changed as it pleased from slow to fast, it could make one happy and make one sad, it could build bridges and burn them too, and it did everything with a sense of cruel pleasure.