As I was beginning to feel dull, I decided to visit the place where the smell of the cool sea air and the warm sand mix in and make me feel like I am in paradise. It is an area where the waves crash onto the shore as they glisten in the sun’s bright light. They move in with force, but then retreat to the yellow-brownish sand. Tips of shells in the movingless, quiet sand lie there as little creatures look for shelter against the sharp-crying gulls. It is a place where both beginners and professional surfers come together to surf in the frigid waters of the blue, deep ocean. The beach looks like a crescent shaped moon from above and is off Highway 1 in the San Mateo County. It is the Pacifica State Beach, one of the most visited beaches in California!

On reaching there I noticed a sign that read “Alert….High tidal waves”. My family and I decided to not get too close to the waters and enjoy ourselves building sandcastles. It was calm and peaceful at the beach. There were no surfers surfing in this part of the beach. I observed a boy wearing a bright orange t-shirt and beach shorts. His parents and younger sister were flying kites while he was playing in the waters. There was nothing weird about my surroundings.

However, after one hour I had a strange feeling when I did not see the boy. His family was nearby, but he seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly, I exclaimed, “Look, the boy is drowning!” It seemed as if the whole world was black and cold. The boy looked like a toy duck trying to overcome small waves. Only in this case, the waves were much bigger than the waves of the toy duck.

The people on the beach just stood there, frozen in fear, as the boy cried for help. The boy’s parents were frantically trying to dial 911, but I knew that would take time. I could see a lifeguard in a yellow vest about 0.5 miles away. Someone had to call him. I was scared and trembling. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I was in two minds of whether to swim to the boy or run for the lifeguard’s help. My stomach was tied up in knots.

I thought, “Going to the lifeguard could be risky, because I might not reach in time. If I wade towards the monstrous waves, I could also be caught in the currents. There isn’t much time. If I could go to the lifeguard before the boy drowned, coming back would take a long time, too.”

I knew I could run half a mile in 4 minutes, so I decided to run.

Newfound strength burned in my limbs. Small kids darted out of my way as I kicked up sand when I ran. “Help! Help!” I screamed while waving my arms for the lifeguard. After describing the scenario to him, we both rushed back with his supplies and he ventured into the ocean. The waves groaned, as they tried to push him back. They looked like an enormous arm trying to reach the boy. The lifeguard stood his ground and kept on advancing forward.

“I hope he makes it,” prayed everyone present there.

When the lifeguard came back with the child, there was a burst of clapping. The clapping stopped, when they saw that the boy’s face was blue and his body had turned pale. He had lost consciousness. The lifeguard administered first-aid to the boy. Soon, we could hear the sirens and see the glaring lights of the ambulance. The boy was put on a stretcher and taken away. The ambulance authorities asked for my information and the others. After a while, the people on the beach went home. We too, headed towards home.

Although I was tensed about everything, I was happy I tried my best. At first, I thought that running was only a form of exercise, but now I realized that running is important in these kinds of dire situations also. Next, if I was a great swimmer, I could have saved the boy’s life instead of running to the lifeguard and asking for his help. The boy could be at home right now instead of the hospital. Last, I realized that I should have informed the boy’s parents about the alert and maybe this frightful event could have been averted.