Sanctuary

• Maddie Black, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

The waves lapped around her feet, chilly, unforgiving yet free. Plunging arm over arm into the freezing winter waters as she paddled towards the rolling set. The wind carrying the waves higher and higher, creating humongous dark moving walls.
Ducking beneath the surface, opening her eyes momentarily, watching as the towering wave curled above, swirling into white water. The board pulled her away from the mesmerising depths and she continued paddling towards her freedom.
She turned, facing the thundering clouds that hung over the beach. Rain whipped against her face as the wind howled. No fear, no thoughts, just simple, comforting emptiness and complete sanctuary.
She held her head to the sky, catching the first glint of lightning, illuminating the early stars. Listening to the crashing waves and striking sky lights. Everything calmed her, let her forget. She could think clearly without jumbled thoughts. She was surrounded by chaos yet she felt serene. This was her element, where she belonged.
She stood as the top of a rumbling wave neared the end of her board. All it took was a slight shift of balance and she was gliding down the face of water. It curled over her, blocking the wether, acting as a shield. The darkened wave stretched out in front of her, the exit slipping further as she let it over take her soul. The wind rushed through her soaking hair as she gazed through the wave at the exaggerated lights. She could never leave this behind.