k i p . d i s t r i c t f o u r . f i n .

You were always drawn to the sea. The smell of the salt grasped inside your mind, like a rope pulling you step by step it. And it would only stop pulling when the sand was under your feet, wet from where the tide was moments before. Or until the glint from the sea released you, away from the scent of sea salt by it's beauty. Or until the almost silent lapping of waves became obvious to your ears, and you were at your home. The sea was your life. A breath of sea air always cleared your mind, letting every single thought of anger and fear and pain flow out, just like the tide. It was your relief. 

That was until your father, a fisherman, a man of the sea, your hero, was snatched away. Someone that could enter the place where all your dreams were located, future, past and present, gone. And each and every inch of the place that you used to love became a place of nightmares, a place where your hero fell, and would never rise again. He was merely a victim to the krakens that wracked your mind for years and years, leaving the sea to be a poison that is never to be touched again. And you never did for years and years. Until you knew that krakens were merely a legend of which your father spoke of, and that took many, many years. Too long to trust your eyes opinion of the proof. Too long to understand that nightmares are only that, only inside your mind.

And then, the sea was merely another thing that you wanted to do, to make up for your father's loss. To make him proud you, and become a fisherman like himself. And that was that, and trained and trained you did, to be a boy after your own old man. And out to sea you went, and the sea became your home again, and the sea waves calmed your beating heart, each and every second a joy to be on. And wherever you went, the sea smelt like it did at home, reliving memories wanted and not so much. Each and every moment with your father filling you with smiles. And then cracking through the smiles, is the walking back into your front door, your mother crying her eyes out in front of you, the time when your father died at sea. Died and would never come back. Gone.

The wind was sweet and smelled of home 

The sea was rough and felt unknown 

Escaping shores of lunacy 

Dawn light, twilight, infinity 

And the sea loved you back, never being too rough when you went out, the smell was only of the wind that was laced with salt, your favourite thing in the world. If you could've bottled it up, you would without a seconds thought. And then the world decided to show you the power of the sea, the fury of the swell, the contents of it's depth's. A monster of aberrant proportions again wracked inside your mind, no doubt in accordance to the sea's wrath. And despite that, you laid faith that the sea would treat you kindly, unlike your father many moons ago. You were, of course, always drawn to it, and you hoped that faith would return to help you. And you were wrong.

It decided to fuck you around instead.

And your ship that you had found a life in threw your life around, as it hit something. It hit the anger of the sea, the evil, malicious swell, causing it to sink under, just like your father's ship those fateful years ago. But unlike him, you survived, but not unscathed. For the monster that lurked below had left a mark that cannot be rubbed off, no matter with how much scrubbing upon it you try. And all the words that leave your mind, in the quiet nights alone, are 'The kraken tried to kill me. SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!' And all the while, tears cause troughs upon your face, the fear of the time when the ship almost capsized, taking you with it, rolling off your body, like the waves that almost claimed another sailor. And all the time, only the arms of another could rescue you from these straight jackets of pure fear. Of the monsters that hide away from you. Of yourself, and every turn that could come next, taking you with it. And whether someone would rescue you from that that hell when it comes along. 

You have hair that's the colour of blinding sun upon the water, like a golden white that the wind rolls around your head like each and every wave upon the sea, the broth that holds pure fear for you. You have it long, too long since that time in the ocean, panic striking all your senses. You like it long, like a shield from everything that'll come your way. Your eyes are like the sea also, sea-green, when the algae within the water became known, and it looked like the sea was bleeding green. You used to love hearing your father say 'You look like a son of the sea!' But now, you wish that he never said that, you wish that if that was so, you'd rather not have been born at all. The sea claims too many innocents for that to be a complements, in your mind at least.

You're a fit boy, no doubt. In body but not in mind, your mind bent and warped beyond recognision. And you are about 5'11", and each and every of your 71 inches have muscles, and those muscles mean that you weigh 186 pound. Not large, but not the smallest by far. It's genetic though, your parents both being tall and big also. Although you know it's only one parent, one that's no longer with us. You have tanned skin, no doubt from the many many hours you spend outside. Almost bronzed, but not quite, looking natural as the sun itself.

You always was a confident child, before everything happened to you, always out around, challenging people to fights in the training centre, or walking around, nodding to everyone that you knew, which was almost everyone. And you always asked, with firmness, 'Don't call me Kipper, please. Call me Kip.' And that name always stuck, and everyone, including your mother, decided that name stuck well to you. And you lived up to the name you wanted, even till this day, spending many hours of your life in bed, the quilt guarding your sleeping body from the krakens within your dreams, just like the armour of a knight.

Despite this, you were always just short of being a shit, and never pissed anyone off, especially your mother, who was always there with you, no matter what you did, and you respect her like nothing else. Because, and only because, she'd earned it, and nothing can take that away from her. You'd make sure of that. All of the time, even through the nightmares and daydreams that are always there, making the fear damage everything inside you. And she's always there to comfort you away from the darkness inside, and back into the light, where all the love is. And you love her, more than anything else in the world. Without her... well, the sea would've had another friend, a part of the party of the dead below the sea. And then, she'd be the only one left above the sea in the family.

A voice whispers in the gales

Like in the songs and childhood tales

Where krakens raging in the sea

Crack ships into a million pieces