This is Why I Read Spark Notes Instead | Teen Ink

This is Why I Read Spark Notes Instead

January 29, 2013
By Jude-A SILVER, Divide, Colorado
Jude-A SILVER, Divide, Colorado
8 articles 0 photos 1 comment

He laid rest on the ivory sand, palms down trying to absorb the heat. He had placed himself on the edge of the gleaming waters, just close enough to feel the tide with his bare feet. The water was cool and cleansing, a pleasant escape from reality. A gentle breeze sent shivers down his spine. He shuttered and bit his lip against the frigid cold. The smell of the sea filled his nostrils. It was a cool autumn day, just cold enough for discomfort, but he wouldn’t leave. He knew these waters like the back of his hand and though every breath he took cut into his lungs like a knife, he would never go. He was rooted to this spot he had found and the only thing left to do was focus on the task at hand. It wouldn’t be easy to say the least; he decided instead to focus on the tide. He watched the waves washing in and out, hypnotic; He could feel his worries wash away with the sand. The water was crystal clear, so unlike his clouded mind. He ran the sand through his fingers enjoying the limited time he had left. He knew at the end of the day the plot line had to progress, but until then he was just biding his time. I bell tolled in the distance, he was reminded of something dark and vague in his past; he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Again, his gaze drifted back to the water trying to set his mind at ease. “Time is running out” he thought to himself as the bell tolled again. The tide rolled in further coming up past his knees, the water now dark and unforgiving. A chill ran up his spine as he snapped back to reality. The sky darkened around him and the twilight took his breath away. He looked out across the horizon hoping that this moment would never end. He knew that in the blink of an eye it would all be gone. It looked so surreal but he knew better than anyone that things aren’t what they seem. Under the surface there were things he would not discuss in detail until it was far past confusing for everyone involved. He brought his knees up to his chest and rocked slowly contemplating what the future would hold. He raised himself up to a standing position and took a deep breath. The air was stiff as he stifled a yawn. He turned to face the town he knew oh so well and began to walk away from the shore. He knew full well what this would mean; the story was going somewhere, and it scared him to death. He walked a few steps all the while thinking about how his actions could be accurately summed up in two sentences max, but he was going to push the boundaries; he was going to torture high school students and not once would he use indentation for a paragraph. He was a true literary genius and he was walking away from a beach.


The author's comments:
Death to Clichés!

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