I watched in complete serene peace as the waves of the clear, crystal water splashed upon the soft, swirled sand, thrusting it's way onto the whirling sediment, then falling back pleasantly, as if performing a delicate tribal dance. Away the sparkling water fell, farther and farther into the quietly churning sea, until the cycle started over, the soft white sands of Jamaica being drenched with the salty liquid of the Caribbean Sea.
I smiled at this scenic view, this picture perfect frame of paradise. Then, just as suddenly as my mind had relaxed to this heavenly sight, it was awakened. A huge clump of grainy sand flew right into my face, blurring the blue sea and off-white sands. My eyes reacted quickly by shutting close. The hot sand burned my face, stinging me with its heat.
Ick. Some of it had even landed in my mouth. The grainy sand rubbed against my tongue, mixing into my saliva. I gathered all of it up into a giant spit-wad and chucked it away in front of my towel.
Slowly, I reopened my eyes. Tears started to flow at once. They still stung from the little grains floating around in there, but I knew that they would fall out eventually. I cautiously rubbed them with the back of my hand, and soon all the pain was gone. But, whoever threw that sand at me was just going to begin feeling the pain, that stupid ignorant -
"Uh oh," cried a tiny voice behind me. I quickly turned my newly tanned body to face the sound.
A small, guilty looking child of about 4 or 5 peered back at me, gazing forward with a shovel and pail clinging to his tiny hands. His bright brown eyes shined clearly with his guilt. "Uh oh," repeated the small boy, about ready to cry. At that point, my anger faded, and I almost felt sorry for the poor kid, he looked so scared and -
"That's okay, little buddy," I whispered. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, yet I wanted to sound sincere. Though what little I said, it seemed to work. His piercing brown eyes sparkled in the shining sun, and his burnt face beamed.
"Okay!" he cried triumphantly, as if just winning a difficult battle. And with that, he turned his back to me and began rebuilding his sandcastle, a hideously shaped clump of sand perched dangerously close to my towel.
I decided at that moment that it was time for a swim. It could be hazardous to stay here any longer. Gracefully, I lifted myself from my towel and placed my feet on the hot, silky sand, being careful not to step on my sand-spitwad.
My eyes stared off into the transparent waters. Oh, how I loved being here on vacation in Jamaica. I wished we lived here. All the locals were helpful and friendly, and it was always warm, which meant you could go swimming all year round. It would be the ideal place to live.
Ah, but we were only on vacation. My parents had saved up for 2 years to take me here. Our vacation last year had been forfeited and put into "The Jamaica Fund". They still had to add more money to "The Fund" then they would have spent on a normal vacation this year, but they didn't care. My mom and dad wanted to do stuff with me before I grew up, which was good I guess. I was already 15, and I only had 3 more years left with them.
I broke my trance with the water, and called to my parents, who just happened to be sitting right beside me on the next towel over.
"Mom, Dad, I'm going for a swim. Okay?" My mom was sun bathing on her back with her eyes closed, and was doing a mighty fine job of catching the sun's rays. Her usually pale skin now glowed red under her straight dark brown hair.
My dad was sitting quietly, reading his book, Unresolved Conflicts of a Greater Intelligence. On the cover was a giant floating computer with its screen radiating a dark crimson. I had no idea what it was about, and I didn't think I would ever want to know.
"Sure Miara," called my dad over the top of his very exciting and thrilling book. "Just be careful!"
"Um, yeah, sure," I muttered over my shoulder as I turned away from my stuff and started over the sun-heated sand.
As I half-hopped, half-trotted across the vast steaming beach, I couldn't help but notice the cute, dreamy lifeguard out of the corner of my eye. He sat across from me, high up on his lifeguard chair, distinguishable by his neon orange swim trunks. His dark brown hair drifted lazily around his perfect blue eyes, which gazed the ocean scanning for trouble. Hmmm.I pondered. Maybe I should pretend to drown so that he could revive me! Yeah, right.
I was so caught up in my lifeguard fantasy, that I didn't even notice the little kid who dumped sand on me run into my path.
My leg caught his stomach, and I flew forward, spiraling through the air. I was caught totally off-guard, so I couldn't even catch myself when I flopped down headfirst into the wet sand, my face squishing deep into the gunk. I was really lucky to have reached the water's edge, so that when I fell, I made a loud, echoing PLOP that reached the ears of everyone on the beach.
Slowly, I arose out of the sandy muck, but not before a tiny wave smacked into my head. I flew backward, right onto my butt, and another sickening PLOP reverberated into everyone's ears.
Wiping the sand from my face, I heard a giggle. Then another little snicker rushed into my ear. Starting to panic, I turned around to face the beach.
Almost all of the busy activity had stopped, and all of the screaming children were quiet. Just about every set of eyes on the beach was staring at me. I quickly glanced up to my parents. It seemed that they were the only ones who had not looked up. In fact, it looked as if they hadn't even blinked. What great parents.
My eyes shifted from face to face, studying the smiling crowd. A small, suppressed giggle rose from a burly, chubby man in a horridly small swimsuit to my right. That was all it took. Soon, the whole beach croaked with laughter, giggling stupidly at my clumsiness.
I quickly glanced up at the cute lifeguard. Even he was smiling, his perfect white teeth peeking out through his open lips.
No, I thought desperately. This can't be happening! No! I felt my cheeks turn to a deep red, deeper than even the little kid's face who threw sand at me. Hey, wait a minute.
I heard the small, tiny voice before I even turned around.
"Uh oh," muttered the little boy, his voice cracking. I spun around.
"NO!" I cried, deathly embarrassed. That only brought more laughter form he onlookers. I had to get away from this! These people, they, they.
I had only one option. I dove into the shallow, cold water, brushing the sandy bottom and swimming as hard as humanly possible, away from the tantalizing laughter. I swam on until I thought my lungs were about to burst. Finally, I rose to the surface, gasping for air. I was about 70 feet from the shore, secluded from any and all swimmers. It wasn't far enough, but it would have to do, because I could barely stand in the deep water.
A large, threatening wave came hurtling at me, it's blue body skimming gracefully on top of the sea. I ducked fluidly under the water until it had passed.
Rapidly, the waves that had just a few minutes ago flowed quietly to the shore now thundered along, pummeling any bystanders. I zoned out, thinking angry thoughts at the cruel beach, ducking under the surface as each wave passed. But soon, the water calmed my troubles, and it became a fun game avoiding the waves.
Then, just as I was relaxing, the largest wave I had ever seen popped into my view. It towered above me, looming treacherously, an unresolved terror. I prepared myself to duck under it, but a terrifying scream broke my movements. Automatically, I turned to the sound, wanting to see what it was.
Of course, it was the kid, squealing excitedly at the top of his lungs, pointing to a large, brown object. I peered closer. It was. driftwood. Oh great, I thought angrily. The kid has found some driftwood! I'm gonna punch that stupid idiot out and-
Suddenly, I was tossing and turning, end over end, being pulled down by an unseen force. The wave! It had hit me! Oh, that stupid kid! I struggled desperately to pull myself upright, but I was stuck in some kind of current. Some invisible pull was tugging me down and out to sea. I thrashed wildly, but I knew the battle was almost over.
My lungs started to sear with a pain that I had never endeared before. They felt like they were being squeezed in a juicer, their internal liquids squishing out to make lung-juice. I struggled desperately for air, but swallowed a lump gulp of seawater instead. It choked my lungs, soaking the any air that I may have had left. Blindly, the soft, silky touch of sand brushed beneath me. I was at the bottom of a mysterious, unknown mass of mind-boggling power. I had never felt so defeated before in my life. I knew the sea had won, and I had lost. The price of losing? My life.
My senses started shutting down. My eyesight went blank, as blank as a pearly white cloud on a midsummer's day. I smooth and cold brushed my exhausted skin, falling into the crescent of my hand. It seemed to revive my body, making the skin it touched come back to life. But even if it was some miracle blob, it was too late, too late.
I surrendered my last presence of thought to the sea, the unknown stone clutched firmly in my hand.

***Just to let you all know, this isn't the end of the story! Come back soon for the second chapter!***