California Waves

• Lauren Forrester, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2013

Ella Williams was quite gifted, really, so when her Dad’s posh and pretentious girlfriend Melanie proposed she would take Ella down to the sun kissed California beaches that surrounded their home, of course Ella was a little suspicious. In the three years that Ella’s Dad and Melanie had been dating, Ella had copped it. Scowls behind backs, family dieting- all because of Melanie. Ella’s dad had agreed instantly to the outing, and before Ella could work out an excuse to get out, she and Melanie were driving the cherry red convertible down the street. Ella had no idea why they could not walk- something Melanie said about
“Heels are horrible, darling”. It was less than a minute drive, so the conversations in the car were brief, or some would say, non-existent. Ella practically jumped out of the car, Melanie, though, stepped out as if she was testing for quicksand.
“Why don’t you go for a nice swim?” Melanie purred as the two descended the few stairs and trotted across the sand. “Right-ah-“Melanie surveyed the rolling white froths spread across the stretch of beach. “There.” She settled her finger about ten metres away from the flags.
“Are you sure?” questioned Ella.
“Positive.” Melanie cut in. Ella shrugged and ran in. The water was icy, and a bit tugging, but Ella didn't notice.

The water seemed to be pulling her, dragging her body further out, although Ella did not notice. She didn’t notice the life guards concerned looks, only when she found that when she wanted to swim back in she couldn’t. The pull was much too strong. She was caught- caught in a rip. Ella was about to end her life much earlier than she planned. Much earlier. She was drowning.

Her wet blond hair swirled around her, sticking itself to her soft face, the only part of her body above the cold, cool waters of California Beach. If she did not drown, Ella would die of the cold water that lurked on the bottom of the waves, just waiting for little toes to land in their deep clutches. Ella kicked, and pushed, and panicked, but to no end. The water seemed to become deeper as she was tossed around the rip in which she had been told to swim directly in. The waves were blinding her with each crash, knocking her back and forth, as if her body weighed nothing. The water felt like reeds tightening themselves to her wrists and ankles, pulling her around like a puppet, left to right, right to left, and down, down. But never up, where you could see the blue sky and if you looked hard enough, even the outline of a white sand beach.

As Ella felt she was about to black out she heard the loud roar of a jet ski. It was non other than her Dad- bumping on the waves to save his daughter. He hauled Ella out of the ocean's icy grasp, and carried her home.