Sand Beneath My Feet

• Estelle Synnott, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2018

As I awakened from my brief sleep on my colourful beach lounge, my soft pale feet melted in the boiling, grainy sand. It squished gently between my toes. The sensation of the soft sand made me feel relaxed. I opened my eyes to the bright, aesthetically pleasing view of the endless white beach. I began to hear birds chirping deafeningly, waves crashing wildly as they stumbled into the sand and many distant voices of people talking. I smelt ice-cream, hot chips and the fragrance of salt water mist. It made me feel hungry. I felt like the fierce, scorching sun was stalking me like a crow stalking its innocent prey. Crowds of people were cramped into the clear blue ocean. The tall, lush palm trees surrounding me were swaying smoothly in the breeze. Even though I had been to the beach many times, I noticed that the vegetation, sounds and smells started to become unfamiliar. A tornado of thoughts crammed inside my head. I have been here before, haven’t I? I began to feel insecure, like I didn’t know the place. Storm clouds appeared out of nowhere and droplets of rain water fell onto my shoulder. It felt like a cascading waterfall draping over my body. I wanted to go home, but where was home? I felt lost. Everyone around me were complete strangers, yet they all looked familiar. I didn’t know or want to know what would happen next. I just wanted to go home, the place where you are supposed to feel comfortable and welcomed. The place you were supposed to feel safe. Well let me just say…that never happened. I ran for hours on end with someone or something trailing behind me. I didn’t know where to run to or where to go. Despite this, I desperately needed to find my own way in the world so I kept on running. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light blurred across my face, my eyes feeling penetrated by the brightness. In a blink of an eye I was at home, or at least I thought it was home. Was I dreaming? I couldn’t answer that question, because that’s another story that you and I wouldn’t dare to read.