Ronnie was twelve and Ronnie was free. The wind swept-in from the North Atlantic coastline, causing the waves to crash on the rocks and shoreline, on the edge of the village of Murran. The wind carried-on up the beach and through Ronnie’s clothes and hair as he raced along the hard, crunching stones – adding to his sense of freedom. The beach always did it for him – especially on a windy day.

The red-haired, freckled boy was alone with his thoughts and hopes for the future, bowing to no person or thing. School had ended for the day, and like every other day, he headed straight for the beach. Unlike every other day, he didn’t need to turn-around now and go straight home. He had some time available to him to go visit his friend, Tommy. As he pounded along, feeling his heart bursting out of his chest, he rid himself of the poison of school, the taunts and threats from the other kids, and the constant nagging of teachers to get through the work.

Apart from school, living in Murran was a pleasure. Although it was a tiny Scottish village, the coastline meant that the village had no boundaries for him.

Ronnie’s fantasies allowed him to stare at the sea and see beyond the horizon to lands that didn’t exist, but would be the lands that Ronnie, nonetheless, swore to himself he would visit one day.

He knew that everyone else in the village thought he was a little mad, coming to the beach every day and staring at the sea. It was perhaps as well he never told them what he was thinking whilst doing so. The one person who did understand Ronnie was his friend, Tommy. But then, Tommy would understand, because he actually lived right by the beach.

When his parents learned about his friendship with Tommy, they had made a big fuss until they realised that he was going to see Tommy, regardless of what they said. They didn’t like the fact that Tommy was in his forties and lived on his own. They also didn’t like what they knew about his past. Ronnie didn’t care about any of these things, although he had at first when he didn’t really know him. He guessed it was the same for his parents – they still didn’t really know or understand Tommy, just like the rest of the village.

Ronnie knew that Tommy had once been a boxer in Glasgow, and had won a number of his fights. Because he won, he would celebrate with his friends by drinking lots. Soon enough, he stopped winning because the amount he was drinking affected his performance, and stopped him training as hard as he should.