Trapped :: essays research papers

Crash, Swish, Roar. The lonely empty silence is oerpowered by a wall of spark rushing towards me. Wheels of rachis are churning down the stairs my feet. My golden locks are flattened and hunched over my head to variance a thick curtain over my eyes. Light ripples are printed against my chromatic stomach as the sun beams through the oceans unsteadiness. I scene to a lower place me and cant put one across whither the sand bank ends I look above and realize its a long way to the top. tangle witht panic Kate, youll get through this. I try to totter to the top but am halted by something severely weighing me down- My plug-in. Thats what got me in this mess in the first place. I can see the floral pattern peeping through the sand that is rapidly crawling over it. I quickly rip apart the Velcro of my foot berate and watch my board float to the surface effortlessly as I attempt climbing through the water to reach the surface. The fin of my board becomes more visible to me as I as cend. Finally, an alleviating sensation blasts through my mouth. Air.Crash, Swish, Roar. only as I get a breath, the powerful monster swallows me at a time more. It finally hits me that Im going to be under a long time. These are 20 ft waves, I think to myself. in that location is no way I am getting out of here the easy way. I feel the blood surge to my head as the paranoia sets in. When I was 5 years old, protactinium woke me up one dawn and informed me that he was finally going to teach me how to surf. I was ecstatic. I used to watch my brothers in envy as I crouched on the damp sand with my head between my hands resting on my knees, sulking at the fact that I wasnt allowed to surf until I was 5. Well, that time arrived when Dad was taking me, and nothing was going to hold me back. I watched Dad progress me as he returned from a blue and white hire collapsible shelter with a long (well what seemed long at the time), bright yellow foam board. It had a small white fin stickin g out its rear. We stayed school and like any impatient 5 year old I began to suffer from frustration as I continuously nose dived into the sand at my efforts to stand up.