I got a story all the way from sunny Guam for you /x/, enjoy.
wrapped myself in a nice warm blanket and watched the stormy sea until it calmed down.
I just turned 21 when I got three days of bad weather, that was way more then I could stand. So I grabbed my rain coat and decided to take a walk on the beach, if I couldn't get in the water at least I would smell it, I would taste the salty air and feel the waves on my bare feet.
As I was walking towards the sea I noticed something white in a pot hole filled with water, It looked like a snow flake but it never snows here.
I always had a fascination for snow and ice, I always enjoyed learning about it or watching it.
As I knelled down, I realized it was just a tiny white octopus, it was the cutest critter I ever seen.
I poked my finger in the pot hole and the little guy jumped on it, he was about half the size of my index finger's nail. I placed him in my pocket, went to the nearest trash bin and picked up an empty soda bottle, cleaned it quickly in an inlet since the sea was to stormy to get close to. Then I placed the little octopup inside the bottle, the bottle in my pocket and I continued my walk, careful to pick up sea weeds and other little worms or sea bugs that got washed up for my new friend.
I named him Flakey, since he looked like a snow flake.
The storm lasted for about 3 weeks in all so I couldn't put him back into the sea, the wind was unpredictable, blowing from all direction and the little guy would just get thrown back on to shore and die.
I did take him to the local sea life center but the people there said he isn't anything interesting and that I should just trow him back when I can.
I did get some advice on food do, and I experimented until I found things he liked to eat.
He eat a lot, he seemed to favor sea weeds of all kinds and fish or meat. I would mince it in the blender and drop it little by little in the bottle. He was an energetic little fellow and I would talk to him or stick my finger in the top of the bottle where he would 'attack it'.
After about two weeks he grown to about the size of my finger and I moved him to a jar, I was afraid he would get stuck in the little bottle.
All this time I fed him, changed his water every day or every other 2 days and generally tried to keep him in good spirits, he loved to chase little sea bugs around so I made sure he always had those in his little improvised aquarium.
After three weeks the storm died down and I decided to put him in this remote little rock outcropping I knew about. It was only connected to the sea during high tide.
I decided to take him there in the morning, stay with him till the tide came in and see the little guy off.
I made a camp fire and did my thing, swimming and catching some waves. I also placed my camping gear in such a way you couldn't get to the puddle unless you moved a lot of my own stuff beforehand. The place was deserted, but, better safe then sorry.
The little puddle I placed him in was about one cubic meter if I was to guess, and he loved it right away. He was darting around and seemed to be very well. I stayed till dawn when the sea came in and connected with the puddle, it was getting dark and he didn't seem to want to leave the puddle. I used my flashlight to see what he was doing wile I was getting ready to leave, he was still darting around but I figured he would leave eventually.
I was wrong, the next day I came back and he was still there. I took care of him like before for about 3 months, bringing him food and and such.
By now he was the size of a big cat and he turned a dark shade of blue, he could get in and out of the puddle regardless of the tide just by climbing the rocks. He also started fallowing me wile I swam or surfed.
kay will continue
if you don't like it kindly fuck off and read a word processors story instead of my bad gramured one
He even came when I called him, he was adorable when he would snuggle in my cupped palms or grab on my leg when he knew I was about to leave. About this time he also learned how to fish, so I started to bring him less and less food.
I wanted him to be independent, not my pet.
All was going well until one early morning. I was going to my camping site like normal when I saw Flakey on the beach, getting harassed by these three imbeciles. They where poking at him with sticks and trowing him around.
I got angry, hit one of them with my surf board and punched the other one a few times, the third one went down easy. These where weak scrawny people and they reminded me why I preferred to keep to myself.
I broke one guys arm and the guy I hit with my board was bleeding so they ran away.
Flakey was trying to get back into the sea, but he was pretty big by now and he wasn't making much progress.
I went to grab him, he panicked, started trowing his tentacles around, then I called his name and talked to him, he turned around, looked at me and went limp. I thought he would die, but he swam away slowly when I put him back in the sea.
He only had a little tare on one of his fins but I was afraid he was hurt more then could be seen.
When I went back the next day he was almost back to his normal self.
It happened because he got too used to people, one of those guys told me the previous day:
'-Stop it, the stupid thing came to us...'
I was decided not to let this happen again. I stooped going to the sea and got a job. It was about time according to my mom and I stayed away from the sea for three years.
After those hard and bleak years I was fired and I returned to my old ways. Flakey was nowhere to be seen any more, I was worried about him but I hoped he was doing well.
I did everything I could for him.
I never forgot about him, maybe if I gotten a wife, or friends or even a pet I would have forgotten. But he was my only real friend and I still thought of the little critter fondly.
I spent the rest of my life enjoying the sea all the way up to my sixties, I was in pretty good shape too till one day, when I had a bad case of chest pain.
I was taken to the doctors and they said I have an enlarged heart, apparently it's from me working out 'too much'.
Typical doctors, if you don't work out they say you need to work out, if you do workout they say you worked out to much.
They told me I should stop surfing, swimming, basically everything I loved.
As I saw it, dying wile doing something you love is a good death.
So I kept at it.
One day do, wile swimming out to sea, swimming better then I swam in years and getting carried away with it. It felt like I was 20 again, unfortunately my old heart gave up on me and I froze in pain.
I went in an out of consciousness for hours, and when I came thru I was so far out to sea I couldn't even see the shore. It was getting dark too, nobody could see me after dark, way out here, nobody to call the coast guard since my parents died.
I thought I was a done for. But then, something grabbed me, gently, I thought it was sea weed at first just tangling around me, but it was alive.
The whole sea seemed to boil around me and I panicked and passed out again. I came in and out of consciousness, it seemed something was taking me somewhere. When I completely woke up I was back on shore.
I got up and stumbled to my home, where I slept for two days. I was not sure if it was real or a dream created by my failing body.
I went back to where I woke up the third day, camped there and tried to remember things.
Made myself a nice fire, brewed some tea and smoked a very sweet cigar.
When my fire went out, the tea got cold and my cigar was smoked I saw the sea rise up.
The sight jolted me back to attention, as I was falling asleep before, the sea took shape and was advancing towards me.
I went closer, even do I was scared out of my mind.
But that's what I went there for, I went back there for answers, to remember.
Then as the sea got closer, as it moved more I realized it wasn't the sea, just a very big thing coming out of the sea, it was dark as the night, it looked surreal in the moon light, and it had long tentacles that enveloped me. I thought this creature would eat me, but it just ... well it just seemed to pet me.
His big strong tentacles gently touching me, I tried to move, to see if it would let me leave.
It did, I only had to push against it with my palm gently for the thing to make room for me, then I thought, it couldn't be!
I moved to the side and saw one of it's scarred fins, just where I thought it would be.
I called out to him:
It was him, he embraced me again and almost suffocated me this time, clearly he remembered me as well, he was exited, I talked to him a bit and we went into the water together.
I know most people would have been afraid, he did look very scary, but to me he was still the tiny white octopus that liked to dart around all day in his little bottle.
I went with him that night and he carried me so far and so fast I still can't believe it. I never went as far, even when I was younger.
He was gentle too, maybe I am giving him to much credit, but I think he knew how frail I gotten.
Flakey grew into a buss sized shadow. Even sharks avoided him, he avoided people and for the first time since I found him, I knew he no longer needed my help.
I went back to the sea after that, not as often as I used to since my health didn't allow me to. But once or twice a week I would camp out in a remote place, far away from prying eyes and wait for my old friend and he never disappointed.
I am no longer afraid that people would hurt him, he seems more then able now. And I do love it so much when he swims with me, he even took me to this underground cave once, I tried to get down there myself but couldn't, so he helped me out.
All was well until this young kid saw us one night, and he pestered ,bribed and flattered me till I gave up and told him my story.
In case you haven't realized it by now, I am the young kid.
I don't know how much of this story is true, but I saw a man of 60 swim faster then a boat during the night on two occasions, and something was under the water helping him do that. It displaced and sent ripples.
Didn't say it wasn't entertaining. I implied that you can't fucking spell you fucking ignorant fuck and as such, you would benefit from the tools made accessible by typing your 6th grade short story in a fucking word processor.
I was just a tourist the first time I went there, saw him by accident, the second I was sneaky about it, and used binoculars.
Then I had to go back home.
I came back 2 years later, I had to.
The old man, sadly died in the meantime, at home, peaceful by what I heard.
Knowing he can't help me I went to the spot he used to go to and made a fire just like he used to do and waited.
At one point I noticed ripples, the sea bubbling at one spot and one spot only, then nothing.
After that first night, nothing else happened for the rest of my stay.
If it is down there, it only came to the old man.
That's about it, your guess is as good as mine if the old man was lying. But I wouldn't go swimming in those waters, better careful then dead.
The story didn't say what the bottle was made of.
GLASS soda bottles were littered fucking everywhere during the time in question, and worse yet, some would break so you could really cut your foot badly on a beach if you didn't spot it.
This litter was common long after plastic bottles came along because in some places, nobody bothered to pick it up. I remember it being a serious problem at less-traveled beaches into the late 70s, and I got a nasty cut from a broken one around then that helped that memory along.
The cool, smooth stuff called "beach glass" is what those broken bottles turned into after the shards had long enough time to erode.
>an octopus surviving for 40+ years
Cute story tho, I'll give it a pass.