I Never Got There

• Emma Mills, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2009

I felt helpless. But that wasn’t all. I was afraid. How many times had this happened to me? None, this was the first. I wasn’t really helpless. I could walk, I could talk, I could laugh and I could cry. I could do anything, everything, but I didn’t want to. I only wanted to sit and cry. I was ashamed. Why did I do it? I don’t know. Maybe I felt sorry for him, maybe I did like him at one point, but let’s face it I never loved him. I ended it because I couldn’t go on like that.
From the moment I convinced him to come to the party, I was embarrassed. I know it’s harsh, but he wasn’t, isn’t, dating material.

I stood on the sand and looked out at the sea. The place I loved. I could be there for ever. That was it, the moment I decided this would be the last place I would see, that I would feel, that I would hear. This dangerous, rip infested surf beach.
I had never swum here before, because I’m not the best swimmer, and this place was only really for the experienced.
I turned and looked up at the sand dunes I had known all my life. I laughed, I’m not sure why, but I did, as soon as I laughed a tear fell onto the sand. More followed it. I was more scared than I had ever been before, yet I still knew this was the only way.
My toes sunk into the wet sand. The water covered them and I shivered. It definitely wasn’t the right day for a swim. I wasn’t going swimming though so it didn’t matter. Soon I was fully immersed in the saltiness of the water. The waves threw me about. I didn’t have much control. I managed to swim, until I found one of the infamous rips. Then I relaxed. I let it carry me out.
I swam down until I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I screamed and the salt tore at my throat, I started to swim upwards but I knew I couldn’t make it. I didn’t have the breath, or the strength, or the will. And that was it I never got there.