The crumbling castle, a kingdom of a sand stronghold. I wish I could shrink myself down to the size of a sand dollar and slip into the large mold of a mimicked bucket. The sand was stuck everywhere, even my heart. The beach was my escape, escape from the school, and my room in which I share with my older brother. We only go to the beach once in forever or so. And I need it more than once in forever.
Wearing my shark swim shorts, I ignored my royal hideaway and ran into the edge of the ocean. It is only touching up to my ankles. I sat down, wetting my rear. It seemed as if I began sliding into the ocean, deeper and deeper. It eventually got up to my waist, and I twisted to face the sand, and see my Mommy under the umbrella asleep with a long book with big words, and my Daddy and brother throwing a frisbee, ignoring the whole world around them, including the waves, my castle and me. Everything except the plastic, orange plate.
I wanted to go further, explore. While I dig the heels of my feet into the wet sand below the water. Nobody noticed me yet again, so I turned again, facing the open pacific as my feet began sinking through the slop as the water was now over my belly button. All that was remaining dry was my sunburnt shoulders and my face, as a look of fear spread across it.
"I've never gone this far out," I think to myself, as the water grows higher and higher above my chest, my neck, my chin. I attempt to yell but instead get a mouth full of seawater. I tried to stand up, but couldn't because my legs were like anchors, rusted, and not moveable. I laid flat down under the water, eventually opening my eyes to a dark world of what seemed like the thing that happened when I gave my dog, Lucy a bite of the Hershey's bar I got for Christmas. It was scary, brown, and dark. And I am terrified of the dark.
You learn a lot when you are scared. You learn a lot when you are nervous. And you learn a lot when you are forced into the bottom of the ocean, the back of your ears hugging the ground as you forget how to move, how to breathe, how to live. My eyes burned from the salt, and I wanted to stay, the water was warm. I felt a jolt of pressure as I was snatched awake from my nap. It was my brother. He wiped the sand out of my eyes, and dragged me to shore, as I was able to see the figure and the burst of light. I couldn't look at their eyes or their smiles. But I knew that they weren't smiling. It was fear.
"Buddy, why the hell did you do that? Please say something," Said Daddy, his face was red, from either anger or the sun.
"Breathe baby, sweetheart breathe," says Mommy who was joining them hovering above me.
"Call an ambulance. CAll GODDAMN AMBULANCE!" Screams my father, who was facing my brother as he fumbled his phone out of his shorts. I wondered why I would've needed an ambulance. I was fine. I needed another place to escape, as for my original wasn't working. My brother and Daddy run away, leaving my Mommy sitting next to me as she wrapped me in a towel and hugged me.
"Why were you out there. You could've, well, floated away," I knew what she was wanting to say. I could've died.
"Mommy."
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I know."
YOU ARE READING
Saltwater Slumber
Teen FictionA short fiction piece about a child who wants a little bit more out of his family trip to the beach.
