My first story is going to be partially fictional and partially true. It’s up to you to decide which one there is more of. I want to tell the story of the worst idea I’ve ever had, with one of the best friends I’ve ever made, in the most unfortunate period of my life. Preteen years. Me and my friend, let’s call her Lizzie, were extremely bored, with a capital X. We were vacationing at her lake house for spring break, and had just finished riding our bikes through all 18 holes of the golf course without helmets on. Twice.
We craved excitement and danger, so we took our prepubescent little selves to where we believed we could find it. A local Walmart supercenter. We begged her father to take us there, who was already annoyed out of his mind that he has to drag us to look for something to do. After about 4 minutes of browsing and a whole lot of minutes complaining, our attention landed on something dangerously exciting. You see, this house was by a golf course. This golf course was by a lake. Not once did we even think about stepping foot in this probably unsanitary body of water, until we saw this $16 inflatable raft (with one plastic ore included!) “This is a terrible idea” Lizzie said and I nodded in agreement. But we both scrambled to grab the box off the shelf, and we headed toward the check out. We stood on the docks, two twelve year old girls and her way-too-young-for-this little brother, armed with a single paddle and a raft that definitely did not have as much air as it should’ve had. Nevertheless, we disembarked on our lifevest-less journey, and waved goodbye to the safety of the shore. We now were victims to the tide. Our destination was this small island in the middle of the lake, of which we were convinced resembled a lion turtle from the show “Avatar.” It was a fair distance away, but we believed we would be able to make it. But the growing soreness in our muscles was a quick indicator that we would not be able to make it. We were halfway there as notified by Lizzie, busy scream singing Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.” But I didn’t believe her. The current was picking up worryingly, and thus, I began to panic. Dark clouds rolled over, blocking the sky in a dull, grey blanket. The thunder clashed, and I knew this would not end well. Before we realized, the water became restless, and small waves tossed our boat around like a piece of driftwood. Crash after crash, splash after splash, I couldn’t even see what was ahead of me, I could barely hear her little brother’s screams as the thunder continuously rolled on. It was chaos, it was fear. And then it was nothing.
2 Comments
Welcome to a blog with no structure and no organization. I will not create an intricate digital painting or analyze the difference between Chinese ink paintings and European impressionism, because I, honest to God, have no idea how to do either. This blog is meant to be fun and helpful! As a senior in highschool, I feel like I can offer some relatable content in my ever lengthening path to suffering. I will do my best to channel my personality into my writing, although my 8th grade writing teacher told me I’d have a hard time of achieving. Join me on this voyage into arcadian unknown, and maybe we’ll learn something on the way.
|
|