Trust Me

Nearly Gone

“Of course not,” I laughed. But on the inside, I felt so tense and nervous. I felt like a dormant volcano, insides spewing with lava, but on the outside appearing calm.

Jake stared at me thoroughly. He seemed to be reading me, like a book. It felt like some sort of cross examination.

“I guess I’ve been watching too many police TV shows,” Jake finally grinned at me.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said as normally as I could muster. My nervousness hadn’t gone yet and I was worried that I would give away something. Even just a squeak in my voice or an anxious look would give away a big secret to Jake. I couldn’t afford to do that.

“I’m going for a swim, it’s nice and hot now,” Jake exclaimed. “Want to come?”

“No thank you,” I answered him politely. I watched him run out onto the hot sand and dive into the ocean. I was so jealous.

It was a very hot day; the sun was gleaming brightly out of the window. Anyone without sunscreen would have certainly got terrible sunburn. Women and men lay on beach towels, asleep as young children dawdled in and out of the water.

All of a sudden, I saw a little girl frolicking in the water, when a bigger wave came and knocked her over. The currents were taking her out, I had to do something.

I don’t know what went through my mind. It was the most dangerous plan I’ve been part of.

I sprinted down to the water’s edge, feeling hot sand grains across my feet. I dived into the icy cold water and did the fastest freestyle I’ve ever done. The little girl was drifting out more though; I had to catch up with her.

I seized every bit of power and pushed past the pain, in a strong, fierce freestyle. The little girl was floating in the water, facedown. I wasn’t even sure if she was alive. I grabbed her warm body in my arms and checked to see if she was breathing.

She wasn’t.

I didn’t know what to do. I had never been in this situation before.

The little girl was weighing me down. I couldn’t stand up in the water, it was so deep. I kicked my legs as hard as I could towards the shore.

“Jake,” I yelled. “Help me,” I needed him to hear me and to help me. If he didn’t, then I was going to drown along with the little girl.

Jake looked in my direction immediately. He swum out to where I was and held me up.

“This girl isn’t breathing,” I said, anxiously. “You need to get her to shore,” By now I realised how exposed I was. The police were on the shore, any sudden moves and I would be taken in, again.

“Okay, I’ll be as quick as I can,” Jake replied. He took the little girl from my arms and swam off at a fast pace. I followed him, but I wasn’t as fast.

When I reached the shore, I saw that people had crowded around the little girl and Jake. He was trying to help the little girl by giving her chest compressions.

Suddenly, as I was running over, the little girl coughed.

She was beginning to breathe again. Everyone crowded around Jake and patted him on the back and the little girl’s family gave him a hug.

“It wasn’t me who rescued this little girl,” Jake said. “It was her,” Jake pointed to me in the crowd and I was immediately surrounded by well-wishers.

I wasn’t scared of spiders or planes or anything like that. It was more this kind of situation that scared me. I hated crowds and flocks of people being kind to me. I would rather be drowning than being chased by those kinds of people.

But the little girl lying on the ground took my hand and I was overcome by her innocence and love. Her little green eyes just seemed to say a thousand words of praise. I smiled at her as I squeezed her hand.

A flash of light went off. I instinctively covered my face. Not reporters, oh please not reporters. Those nasty, cruel people who followed you around, making up all kinds of dreadful rumours. They were the kind of people I never wanted to see again.

I left the little girl and ran off down the beach, away from the reporters.

“Juliette,” Jake called out as I ran across beach towels and under beach umbrellas. “Wait!”

I wasn’t going to wait for anyone; I knew I wouldn’t be safe until the reporters had gone. No one was safe while they were roving around.

I hid in a public toilet for almost 4 hours. I was counting, since it was the only thing to do. I couldn’t go back until I knew that the reporters had gone. They would have to be back in their fancy office for me to ever come out again.

Each second that I counted, I felt better. I didn’t feel as enclosed as I had. I also felt worried for Jake. He would be stuck with the reporters, left with nothing to say.

The only regret about running away was leaving without saying goodbye to that little girl that had almost drowned. She was the only one who had deserved a goodbye, well maybe Jake as well.

But I was about to go back to the little beach box, back to Jake. I was almost certain that the reporters had gone and I’d spent enough time in the smelly public toilets.

But just to be sure, I sprinted across the beach. Past the tourists playing in the water, past the deckchairs for the tourists, past the masses of seagulls and past the policemen who were still there, looking.

As I reached the beach box, I opened the door quietly to the saddest sight that I’d ever seen. What had happened here?