Some lived out of hope that life would improve. Some lived because their once-miserable lives had improved and they wanted to show their gratitude by living them. But to Catrina, life was no different from the very beach she sat in front of.
Once it had been a bustling place--the beach, not the life--a place where happy families, teens out on summer break, the occasional local wallowing in the pure touristy richness of the place gathered... but no more. The beach-goers had moved on, and like a lake now dried up, the beach had simply wilted. Turning lively, playful people into dreary, colorless weeds, the beach might as well have been gone. But it stayed out of spite, saying, "If you leave me, I'll always be here. And every time you pass this place, your heart will be filled with your forgotten memories and you shall be overcome with guilt. That is your punishment for leaving me." It was a childish thought, but beaches weren't known for their mature philosophy. To suffer, all alone, for pure revenge, well... I suppose, what else could it have done?
And that was Catrina's reason: immature spite. Every happy person innocently going about their day would see a poor girl sitting by the beach, as abandoned as the very sand her feet rested on, and perhaps their level of cheerfulness would be dropped a few levels, out of pity. That was Catrina's sole reason for staying. The meaning of life... a soft, blue-green wave rolled up to shake hands with the once-loved sand, then retreated, as if the sea was sighing at all of Catrina's melancholy woes.
The girl smiled at the ocean, thanking it for its love and care. In her hands, the sea's gift was shown. "My dearest..." murmured Catrina warmly, "Thank you." She stroked the gift, her eyes filling up with tears at the gesture...