7.5.21 writing prompt “When you were 7 at the beach….”
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I remember that day so clearly. That day held so many firsts. I experienced so many unknowns, but that doesn’t matter yet. No, all that mattered is I was going to the beach for the first time, I had no idea what an ocean was or sand, or even seagulls. That little girl from Arkansas couldn’t wait to escape the grip of her parents who shuffled chairs, and snacks down the ricketty boardwalk. I remember standing at the end of the platform staring at the sand, wondering how long it would take to count each grain. Bending down, my tiny hands grab as much as I can take. I never felt anything like it before, something so hot, so burning that my soul felt on fire. Brining as much sand as I could to where my parents were setting up, as if I would somehow run out of sand, I began grabbing sand from all over and making a pile. My parents looked at each other awhile before my mom shrugs and turns to read some trashy romance novel and my father calls to me “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” . I try to explain in my best 7 year old logic that the sand from across the beach was different, but ultimately was told to leave the sand and was ordered to explore the ocean with him. After gearing up with googles and arm floaties we walk closer to what looked like the sky here on earth. I remember how blue it was and the foam of white that reminded me of my father’s shaving cream. My hand, still burning from the sand , reached down to explore the ocean and immediately was started by the stark contrast in temperatures. A bear like laugh escapes my father at my reaction, parents could be so cruel. “Is it cold?” he mocks, it was then we heard the eeks and shrills of my mother. A gust of wind came and she was fighting to get the umbrella back in place. “Don’t move. I don’t want you to get swept out to sea” he cautions, little did he know it wasn’t out that I should have been wary of. Turning my attention back to the water, wondering what was beyond my eye line, I catch a glimpse of something peaking just above the water. I turn to my parents still attempting to secure what the wind so easily destroyed. I decide to take a step forward, telling myself I won’t go deep, but far enough to see what popped up just above the surface. With each step the higher the water rose and the more I felt it pushing me closer to my destiny. I turn my head over my shoulder to search for my parents, fear beginning to set in as I no longer had control, the ocean had taken over. I call back to the shore and see my parents rush towards the water. Their panic, their screams, the desperation in their eyes; thats what I remember, that’s the last thing I remember of them before my new life began. Because in the next moment I felt something take my hand, except it wasn’t the familar touch of my mother or father. No this one felt of scales and what I could only describe then as fins. Looking down smiling back at me, with hair filled with shells and a tail for feet was the next part of my journey at the beach, or should I say benath the beach.
