I came to a bridge that led to a small island just off the main island and seeing the piers it had protruding from it like tenticles, I head for it. A couple of them look as though they'd be good vantage points to catch a decent sunrise. 

The tiny island seems empty, but a lone white sedan parked a ways out from the main building meant there has to be someone here. The connected buildings even look official, so I wasn't sure if I was really allowed here, but I am already here, so I decide not to care. 

I see an opening and quickly snuggling my bike up against a tree, I take it. The large open area is completely vacant, but it didn't stop me for making sure it stayed that way. I immediately recognize where I am when I face the outdoor stage area. I can remember my mom taking me here a few times as a kid. I remember she enjoying it here because it was very lively and historical. Both of which I have never been a fan of. 

Off to my right I spot a trail that leads to a pier. My strides lengthen as I head in its direction.

I barely make it half way down the wooden path before I am startled for the second time by something appearing out of nowhere onto a dock. My heart leaps almost completely out of my throat and my body reacts accordingly, stumbling back in a jolt away from the potential threat. My foot catches the edge of the dock, teetering for a moment before deciding on its final decent.

The figure was quick, catching my arm just as I begin to fall back. I grab them back instinctively. The figure is able to pull me back with ease and my heart is now throbbing in my ears as I realize just how close that really was.

Still gripping onto the sleeve of their hoodie, I take a peak over my shoulder. It isn't a far drop, but the ground looks like Earth's version of a medieval torture trap. Within the thick, long shrubbery, you can easily see the broken and splintered branches that stick out of the ground like tiny spikes of doom. I was two seconds away from a hospital trip...which may or may not be a slight exaggeration.

I turn back around, ready to give the figure a proper thank you, but greet only air where they had stood just moments before. I did not even realize they slipped through my fingers. Searching in both directions I spot them, or rather him, walking back toward the center of the tiny island. I didn't need anymore guilt hanging on my shoulders, so finding the will to move, I chase after him.

With his pace, it didn't take me long to reach him. He was walking as though he had no where in particular to go, but he carries himself in a way as if he were forcing himself to walk altogether. 

I jump in front of him and throw up my hands. He stops, his expression nothing short of terrified, like he did not expect me to come after him. Not a second later does he take his attention off me and place it elsewhere, displaying both displeasure and nervousness in his expression.

Before I can even begin to explain why I stopped him, I am instantly surrounded by the scent of the ocean. I instinctively inhale it in. It was obviously coming from him, and I find myself leaning toward him slightly as I breathed in once more. 

To some people -like myself- the ocean has a mind calming odor, esepcially when it's carried along a gentle breeze, but this...this was that and then some. It fills my mind so deeply I swear it feels like I am out there completely surrounded by water. Everyone has that one smell they are practically addicted to. I think I may have just found mine. As strange as that sounds.

I sneak another whiff in and begin to sign without thinking. "You didn't give me a chance to thank you."

Midway through my sign, he is already throwing up his hands and stepping away from me, but I quickly extend my arm out, blocking him as I take a couple steps backward. My other hand goes straight for my back pocket and I freeze. I close my eyes, cursing at myself. My phone is at home. Awesome.

I take a step to the side so that I am in front again, scrambling my brain for a way to convey what I had just signed to him. I look up at his ever avoiding eyes and that's when I catch sight of his slightly dripping obsidian colored hair. And suddenly it hit me. My eyes widen in surprise. This...this guy is from the photo of my dad's! I quickly examine him to make sure. 

His hair was the right length and color. He's a lot taller than his picture, but the structure in his face seemed similar. His complexion was fair. The only thing I couldn't see were his arms, which were concealed by the sleeves of his unzipped, cotton jacket. 

"You," I begin, concluding my examination. I take notice in his quick glance at my hands. "Do you know my dad? George Morrison?" I can't help but wonder what the odds would be of him possibly co-owning the place my dad works at with Will. I think I will leave out name calling just in case. 

I see him hesitate, his eyes, although still avoiding, seem to be troubled. Judging by his reaction, I get the feeling he knows what I am saying. 

"Can you understand me?" I sign slowly. He stiffens as if I had just caught him redhanded, but quickly releases his muscles in an attempt to cover his reaction. It was in vain.

A smile was growing on my lips wider and wider. I have only stumbled on one other person throughout the years besides my dad who knew sign language. But now I have stumbled on someone else, literally stumbled.

He pushes past me in an effort to escape. His pace much quicker than before. Spinning on my heel, I dart after him again, wanting to make something of this. After all, he is the very first person I have met near my age that didn't need a lame phone to communicate with.

"Wait!" I sign repeatedly, cutting him off once more. He no longer looks anxious, but irritated as he rolls his eyes. He stops, though, and that is all that matters to me. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that, I'm sorry. I've just never met someone my age who could understand me. I move around too much to really find someone who speaks sign language. You are like a needle in my haystack of a world. Would it be too much to ask if we could be friends?"

Suddenly all the excitement fades. I was rambling, making a complete fool of myself. I bit the inside of my lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make myself sound despearate or anything. It's just that-"

The guy grips my wrists to stop me from signing. There is surprising strength in his grip, but it is the gentleness in his strength that I least expected. They were cool to the touch, like a splash of cold water. 

"Look, just because I can understand you, doesn't mean that we should be friends. I don't." His grip around my wrists loosen until he finally lets go. "I need to go." With that he side steps me and makes his way down the path once more.

I didn't know what had come over me. I should just let him go. Who would want to be friends with someone who practically threw herself at someone and almost begged to be friends. But then the picture reminded me of my original question and I turn once more to him.

When I catch up to him, I reach for his arm. He spun around so fast I didn't have time to grasp what happened. Everything around us immediately blurred away and all I saw were the young boy from my memory's deep blue set of eyes from. No wait, these were much more intense. 

I can feel myself becoming disoriented as I try to decipher the eyes that had seized my own. The harder I tried the deeper I felt I was plunging into the ocean itself. And it was oddly comforting despite my fear of water.

They began to pull me deeper into them and I willingly let them. Pretty soon my will no longer feels like mine. Like he has somehow taken control of it, and I was okay with that. The comfort eminating from his gaze is somehow silently speaking with my very soul, telling me this is what I want. It swirls in my mind completely taking over my thoughts. And then just like that, it all disappears. He had closed them, hesitated and then turned and left. That much I see, but could only watch.

The connection with his eyes leave me in a daze. I can only describe it like if you look into a bright light or the Sun and when you look away you can still see their remnants. Even though his eyes had gone, I could still see them...burning into my soul. 

Some time passes before it feels like the lights to the home in my brain flicker back on. I blink rapidly, taking a second to gather myself. The Sun had already risen some time during my bizarre encounter with him, but I couldn't tell you when it happened. It was already well over the buildings from across the bay. 

I am completely alone now. There was no trace of him anywhere. Everything was a swirl mess as I try to recall what just went down. There were no words, no thoughts, nothing that I could explain to myself of what I had just experienced, but I knew one thing...I wanted more.