March 30, 2011
By , Park City, UT
The sun was high and the slight breeze carried the carefree words of my family from the restaurant close by. My cousin and I had wondered away to explore the rocks that jutted into the calm ocean bay we were by. The bay was filled with wild life; jumping rays, swooping pelicans, and I suspect there were even small sharks. We abandoned our flimsy sandals on the beach and began slowly venturing out on the rocks barefoot searching for animals.

My cousin was pretty much awful with all living things except people, so I mostly picked things up for her to look at. I was coaxing a tiny hermit crab out of its shell when my cousin glanced back at shore and took a double take-I turned my gaze toward hers only to see an almost empty beach-one of my shoes and both of hers were gone.

I jumped into action. I scanned the area around it and spotted the herd of shoes migrating out to sea. I quickly ran back to the beach and snatched my one shoe up. I waded into the water and stretched for the other. I also managed to grab one of my cousins. Her other flip flop (which was rather expensive) was quite a distance out at this point.

I surveyed the situation again and decided to use the rocks as a bridge to the other shoe. I yelled for my cousin to try and grab it but she wouldn’t because she only had one shoe. I sprinted out to a point not to far away from the floating flip flop and tried to get closer. My feet were underwater now and descending down fast. I reached and missed by a centimeter. It was getting father away. I took a few more steps and almost had it.

I couldn’t get it. It was too far out now. My cousin was yelling. I tried one more time and lost my footing, tumbling into the water before I knew what was happening. I felt my knees touch the rough, rocky bottom. I reached and grabbed hold of the shoe.

I stood up cautiously and calmly hobbled off the rocks onto the beach. My cousin was speechless. I handed her the sandal and looked down. I was completely covered in blood. My right knee was mangled from its collision with the rugged rock and the red sticky liquid was pouring down my leg. That’s when I started crying. The tears ran down my face as people rushed around me, washing my wound. I sat and watched.

The scar is now shaped as a crescent moon. Now, I realize the entire escapade was hilarious. I learned to laugh about my mistakes and let others laugh too.

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