Ben and the Ocean
 
Heyo


I promised you stories, so here's a story! Thanks for supporting. If you have any requests, add them in the comments. Y'all are lovely.


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Ben saw how badly people treated the ocean, so he took her away and kept her in a jar on his nightstand. He stopped a cork in the top so she wouldn't get out.


Nobody knew he stole the whole ocean—just one day she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Fishing boats lay broken on the dry bedrock, bridges stood foolishly about, and gulls circled endlessly. For the first time all the ocean's secrets were revealed—like a blue blanket tossed aside, her floor lay exposed. People walked along the endless mazes of choral and ridges and thermal vents. It was very dreary looking—shades of grey and brown viewed from space. They painted it blue with sloppy brushes and spray cans, but it wasn't the same.


Ben was very careful to keep his secret, but he couldn't watch her all the time. He had to go to school during the day. Every morning his mother would send him off with a packed sandwich. She used to make him tuna fish, but switched to cheese ever since the ocean disappeared. Ben's happy about it though, he never liked tuna anyway.


Sitting in class Ben would dream about the ocean's swirling currents, waiting for the bell to ring. After school he'd skip by the beach on his way home, it always looked so lonely, apart from its watery companion. With a stick, he drew giant tuna fish in the sand. Soon he covered the entire beach in tuna, a huge school. They never washed away since there wasn't any tide.


Every night before Ben pulled the covers up to his nose, he'd pop off the cork and put his ear to the jar to hear the ocean's breathes. She was very much alive still. Whales and seahorses swam in her veins and shrimp and crabs trimmed her hair. Sometimes Ben pressed his lips to the opening and felt her wet, salty kisses.


The ocean was grateful, but sad. When the starlight lay softly upon Ben's face and his eyes grew weary, he'd send the ocean a prayer and rub the side of the jar to keep her warm. The ocean would sing a song in return. A sweet lullaby of tales past. Sometimes the ocean would leave gifts and Ben would awake to red starfish and white pearls in patterns on his bed. He wanted to keep the ocean forever; he knew she was safer in his jar than in the hands of the world.