AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My gaze catches on a shell-framed mirror, and I pause. Ocean eyes stare back, bright against the tan of my cheeks. But there's a storm behind them, wild and unfettered, one that doesn't match the carefree tilt of my lips.
I move to the window, palm pressed to the pane, watching the ceaseless churn of water meeting land.
I could strip down, let the ocean claim me, become one with its depths and mysteries. Instead, I snag a beach-inspired necklace from the coffee table, its charms clinking like distant bells. The silver chain feels cold against my skin, a shiver that travels straight to my core.
A seagull caws outside, and I reach for my phone.
I'm a social influencer. And while most of my posts are lighthearted and happy, every now and then I sneak in somethingreal—a message in a bottle, set adrift in digital seas. Maybe this time, someone will find it. Maybe this time, I won't be alone.
"Hey, followers," I murmur to my phone screen, crafting a post that hides my sorrow behind sunny snapshots and filtered perfection. "Who else loves the sound of waves at night? #BeachLife #SoloAdventures" But it's not the sound of waves I long for. It's the warmth of shared silence, someone to sit beside me as the world turns to shadows.
"Connection," I breathe out, craving it like the tide needs the moon. Each like, each comment on my posts, they're fleeting touches—a brush against my soul that leaves me colder than before. My digital presence is a beacon, a lighthouse calling for ships that never dock.
"Feeling lost tonight," I type, erasing and retyping. "Anyone up for a midnight swim?" My finger hovers over 'Post,' then retreats. Too real, too raw. They want the girl with the infectious laugh, not the one who cries into her pillow when the likes stop coming.
"Damn it," I curse, tossing my phone aside. My jewelry clinks like chains as I pace, a prisoner in my own paradise. The scent of saltwater mingles with the sting of loneliness. I laugh, but it's sharp edged, the sound of cracking façades.
"I'm fine!" I proclaim to no one, to everyone. But who am I kidding? Behind the pictures of sunsets and sandcastles, there's just me, Nova Sinclair—desperate for something as tangible as the sand beneath my feet.
I pick my phone back up with a sigh.
The glow of the screen flickers against my retinas, a digital bonfire that doesn't warm. With each scroll, my thumb moves on autopilot, swiping through snapshots of lives that seem galaxies apart from mine. Laughter in crowded bars, kisses caught in freeze-frame, confessions of love written in the captions—every post feels like an echo in the hollow of my chest.
"Everyone's so damn connected," I mutter to the seashells on my desk. They don't answer back, just sit there in their silent, spiraled worlds. A pang grips me as I watch another friend flaunt her engagement ring, the diamond a starburst of commitment I can't fathom. "And here I am, talking to dead mollusks."
Tapping away from the glittering updates, I lean back in my chair, the wicker creaking under my weight. The room swims with shadows and salt-tinged air, my sanctuary turned cell. I'm the girl who's always surrounded, never touching, embraced by sunbeams but abandoned by warmth.
The cursor blinks back at me, a silent challenge in the glow of the screen. I chew on the inside of my cheek, tasting salt and resolve. My fingers hover over my phone, hesitant as they dance with honesty.
It's the kind of day where the tide pulls everything back, and you're left with more shells than sand.
It's not poetry, but it's honest—more than I've been in months. The admission tastes like freedom, like the first gulp of air when surfacing from too long underwater.
Like screaming into the wind and waiting for an echo that never comes.
That's what loneliness is, isn't it? A shout into the void, hoping someone else is shouting too.
#LonelyHeart #BeachBabe
I type the hashtags like they’re a lifeline thrown into the digital abyss. I hit "Post" and instantly, my chest constricts. It's done. My soul stripped bare, an open invitation inked in pixels and longing.
And there it is, out in the open—my SOS, my confession, my rawest nerve exposed.
Relief washes over me, but it's a stormy sea, churning with apprehension. I've cast my message in a bottle into the cyber waves, a plea for understanding, for connection. There’s a rawness to this exposure, skin flayed by my own hand, leaving me trembling. Hope blooms, fragile as a seafoam bubble, that maybe this time, someone will see past the veneer. Maybe someone will read between the lines and find the girl gasping for connection.
My gaze drifts to the window, where the moon laces silver over the waves, a witness to my solitude.
It's only a moment before the ping of my phone shatters the silence, a beacon in the shadow-draped room. It's jarring, invasive almost, stealing me away from the grip of my melancholy thoughts. I snatch the device up, thumb swiping with a ferocity born of pent-up frustration and...hope?
"blazing_it_up?" The screen name blinks at me from an unfamiliar direct message, and my heart catches on a hitch. A glimmer of recognition sparks—Blaze Montgomery, my brother's best friend.
Hey, Nova. It's Blaze, the dude who games with your brother. Don't know what's up, but just wanted you to know I'm always here if you ever need to talk. I know what it's like to feel lonely.
My lips part, breath slipping past them as if they're trying to form his name, but no sound comes out. My brother's best friend—the one with the most incredible voice. I've heard him over my brother's headset, though I've never seen him. He and my brother are virtual besties. I know they've hung out in person before, but I've never seen the famous Blaze in person. I don't even have a clue what he looks like. Have never even seen a picture of him.
My fingers dance across the keys, light as the breeze that rustles the curtains.
Thanks. I might take you up on that sometime.
