You stand, facing the mountains. Gazing out. Across the border. All that you have worked
for, every step you have taken, every single night spent on the run, has led you to this. Like a
tiny boat in a ferocious storm, you have been tossed and turned with no one to care for you.
You look as though you have weathered more than your 14 years would allow. You stand,
staring. Over the border.
Waves of horrors have washed over you, stripping away the little girl you were. Collecting
shells on the beach is a distant memory. Now, you must trudge on, past this border; there is
no room for trinkets on your journey. You carry all you own, a rucksack full upon your back.
Lucky. That’s what they call you. You have a sleeping bag – more than most have. You set up
camp under the stars. The line is 3 miles long. Over the border.
What if it didn’t have to be this way? What if you could turn the tide? You gaze into the
distance; What ifs flooding your mind. One stands out. Loud and proud. What if there were
no borders? No divisions. What if there was only happiness? What if there was only unity,
friendship and joy? But it cannot be, you know that. You stand. Drained. Waiting to get over.
Over the border.
They said it would be easy. They said the seas would be calm. They said you would survive.
Survive you did, but barely. For who helps a 14 year old, carrying the weight of the ocean –
an ocean girl. You wished for change, but know it is as impossible as stopping erosion, as
impossible as getting the sand out from between your toes. So you stand. Alone. Together.
But alone. Waiting. Watching. Gazing. Over the border.