The air was dry, the personalities drier.
Moisture trickled the air.
The sand was cool, and lacked support.
It was beautiful, cool breeze, warm sand.
She was in her element. It was high tide.
August was the worst, the uncontrollable current.
Nauset was known for a fierce riptide.
Swept in and out anything in it’s path,
With no cares regarding its new or long time passengers.
Life guards were off duty.
It was after hours, it’s when they felt alive.
It was the time of the setting sun when they came out.

Teenagers.

All she wanted was to belong,
Too small, too blonde, too immature.
Too young and naïve to handle “their world.”
She dove in.
She paddled out toward the setting sun.
Reaching the sandbar, she was on top of the world,
She’d proven them all wrong, they had underestimated her power.

The bitterly cold water became unbearable.
Like knives on her pink freckled skin.
Exhaustion plagued her.
Braving it for a long as possible, return to the warm sand.
The swells grew higher, beautiful sets of three.
The current grew stronger.
But she was determined.
The height of the waves was indescribable.
Exhaustion came quickly.

After a few moments of fighting, she gave in.
That one beautiful swell nature had created,
Overtook her body with out a concern
For the young life that was about to be taken.
Flailing limbs flying through the rip curl.
Taking one last clean breathe she surrendered.
She belonged to the currents now.

They noticed her absence.
She wasn’t as much of an annoyance as she’d thought.
Ten minutes later, she was pulled form the bellowing ocean.
Reviving came easy to a stranger passing by.
It felt like an eternity, but soon the color in her cheeks reappeared.
She was back, eyes opened slowly.
Coughing, the freckled skin returning to it’s normal sparkle.
Holding back tears she longed for an explanation.
Turning to the crowd she screamed joyously:
“I’m ALIVE.”