Unstoppable

I am perched in the car anxiously, inhaling the sweet, salty air of the sea. I stare out my window, feeling my mind swirl violently with thoughts of what was soon to come. The sun thrashes on the ocean’s gentle papery surface, and the water glistens as three birds merrily fly over. The waves lap coolly on the surrounding sand.

The car comes to a sudden halt and I leap out, not looking back. The sun sits in a cloudless blue sky and blazes with a glowing smile. I am in such a rush I don’t put sunscreen on.

My feet sprint over the scorching sand. I maneuver over the mounds so I won’t stumble and fall, and soon I am plunging head first into the Atlantic Ocean. The water is freezing, but when I am swimming, I am unstoppable. Nothing can remove me from the ocean, and nothing can take the thrill away from me.

A wall of water approaches me, and I puff out my chest. I brace for the impact and soon I am tumbling in multiple back flips underwater. My buzzed blond head is exposed to the tangy salt water and I feel completely refreshed.

I go back to the water’s surface and see my younger brother, John, slowly sinking into the water. I wave at him and he shivers and gives me a frown as I hear his teeth clatter. He hates being immersed in cold water as most five-year-olds do, but nonetheless he loves to swim here. He slithers up beside me.

I can’t recall how long we swam; all I know is that the stars were breaking through the thick texture of the night sky by the time we were done.

My mom hollers for John and me and tells us that it’s time to go and I unwillingly depart from the place that felt like a second home. I gather myself in the car, nestled in a towel. As we drive away from the beach, my feeling of invincibility weakens, and soon I am just a regular person again.