A Beautiful Day For A Tragedy

Crash, swish, crash, swish. I drift into the rhythm of the melancholic waves as my feet sweep over the gritty sand. The sea air dries my mouth, but at the same time refreshes me. Today has been wonderful. It was my first day of work and everyone was so friendly, plus the boss let me go home early! The sun is dipping low into the sky, staining it a brilliant orange. The beach is deserted and the wind whips my dark hair into my eyes and the broad hat off my head. Pushing against the breeze I chase after it.
Hey, what’s that? Half buried in the golden sand, old, tattered and torn is a piece of paper. Looks like an ancient journal entry. First, scanning it carefully then reading more intently I discover its awful contents. A disaster, ready to happen. Something about waves swallowing a girl. “Drowning” is scrawled on the page. Maybe it’s part of a novel, but it’s written like a diary entry. I think it’s a warning. I fold it carefully and shove it into my pocket.
The wind shoves me back. I know it’s getting late and I should head home. Jogging along the beach I see another page, like the last, blowing along the sand. I’m tempted to leave it, but curiosity gets the better of me. This one describes the victim. Brown hair, white shirt, black skirt, freckles. It looks like a news report now. “Girl’s body swept ashore - family devastated.” I need to get these to the police so they can stop whatever’s going to happen. I take the first note out and realise something that I hadn’t before. The date. Today’s date. That can’t be right, the notes look a hundred years old. Strange. I need all the evidence I can for the police, so I continue along.
The light is rapidly fading, darkness enveloping the seaside. I spy another clump of pages resting in the sand, which I grab and clench tightly. Tears fill my eyes. “Body never found. Friends heartbroken. Parents plea for answers.” These words dance on the page. I must get to the police so I sprint along the beach when something stops me. Another page. One more and then I’m gone. It sits on the shore, my hand straining to grab it, but it quickly sucks back into the sinister sea. I need that final page!
I ignore the sharp burning in my calves and sprint into the water. Knee height. The waves wrap around my legs, dragging me down. Waist height. The cold almost draws all the air out of me. Neck height. Gottcha. The sun is long gone and it’s fully dark. Gasping, I squint at the paper. There’s a name. Although the ink is running down my fingers, I realise with horror that I know the drowning girl well. Very well. And all to late I realise, she is me.

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