The Miserable Existence I

                                               "March Into the Sea"


          On a particularily cold February morning, the old couple sat on their sea-side bench, playing their miniature symphony. The old man cranked his music box, and the old woman her accordion, which both fit perfectly for the ocean waves' roars: beautiful yet haunting. They played in the cold, creating notes that the windy chill caught and blew into the abondoned, empty fair ground. It was not season yet.
          Then the police came. The car bounded softly onto the gravel and sand solution just before the pier which led out into the sea. Two men in blue stepped out, walking through the cold ocean-frosted air and made their way towards the old couple. The music stopped.
          "Excuse us," said the first officer, "But have you seen this girl?" They held out a photograph of a young girl, maybe around the age of sixteen or so.
           The old man squinted his eyes, like he was deciphering a code, and then said, "Why...I think I have. Dear," he said, turning to his wife, "Haven't we seen her before?"
          The old woman looked at the picture, her face lighting up with realization, "Yes, I think we have! Honey, doesn't she walk on this pier every morning?"
          "So you have seen her." said the second officer. He took out a notepad and a pen. "Well, she's been missing for about two days now. Tell me, when's the last time you saw her?"
          "If I can remember, I believe it was last Tuesday," said the old man, scratching his chin. "She always walks out onto the pier, to the very end. Sometimes she greets us, then walks to the end and sings."
          "Sometimes she cries," said the old woman, perking up. "You know...teenage girls and their emotions. Oh! I remember, back when I was just a girl, and I'd go through those feelings like a whirlwind!" The couple laughed, he patting her shoulder.
           "Do you have any idea where we might find her?" asked the first officer.
           "I doubt it," said the old man, "But why don'tcha go check the end of the pier? You know, like that fancy genetic stuff you cops have." The old man flicked his hand, as if to ward off new technology.
            The two policemen looked at each other and walked to the end of the pier. The music started up again.
            The first walked up to the end of the pier, peering down into the ocean water. He peered deeper, then drew back. "She's down there."
            "What?"
            "She's down there. The girl. She's on the ocean floor,"
            "What is this? Did she drown?"
            "I doubt it. She's in clothes, like jeans and a sweater."
            "A homicide? Suicide?"
            "I'm guessing suicide. Her mom said she was depressed. God...what a way to go...marching into the sea like that."
             The other didn't answer. He walked back to the car with a grave look on his face. Thoughts paraded into his mind: Did it hurt? Did her lungs burst? Did she want to go back when she jumped in? Was it frigid? He tried to ignore everything and just get out the camera to take her final picture.
              The music played on.