Barry Sea-Watcher

Barry Sea-Watcher - Jonathan Zheng (Southern Hills Middle School, Seventh Grade)

Barry sat at his old decrepit desk and looked out the crumbling window, the plaster, peeling off, and the frame slowly falling out of place. He saw the sea. Its azure waves crashed against the shore and he reminisced on what life had been like before the war. He thought about how as a child he loved to dance between the tides, and watch the sun go down. How he had eaten sweat jars of jam, and how he had created his very first painting down on the smooth white sand. 

Then the bombs fell and everything had changed. Most cowered in fear when they heard the wails of the sirens warning of enemy planes incoming. Barry, though, stood on the top balcony of his house and shouted at those planes to come and get him. At the time, Barry had thought himself brave, and it was that same bravery that drove him to join the war. He remembered his first battle, the screaming, the fire- Barry shook himself out of the memory, he didn’t want to remember. 

He popped open a new can of blue paint reveling in its sickly sweet scent, then he looked out the window and began to paint. In a vain attempt he tried to replicate the chaotic movement of the sea, but when he looked back at his canvas all he saw was a battlefield. A shell crashing down through the sky, a body falling to the ground, a mountain of overflowing corpses, hazy red smoke choking the sky. Barry looked away; he didn't want to remember the death, the fire. 

Staring back at the sea he recalled happier memories. Memories of childhood, of love, of innocence, and slowly his painting began to change. The bomb shell turned into an eagle swooping down. The falling body, a fish diving into the water. The corpses, a vibrant, glowing, beach. The smoke, rays of luminous light emanating from a setting sun. When Barry was finished he wiped away a few flecks of paint then rolled back and stared in awe at the masterpiece he created. It was only the calling of his wife that drew him out of his stupor. Dinner was ready, smiling, Barry left the painting to dry and wheeled down the hallway, ready to have a delicious meal.