Mikela

"Sandy Beach"

  

May of 2012 was quite an adventurous month. I was experimenting with drugs and friendships and slowly losing grasp of my life. But there was one specific day that I remember the most. My friend and I went to Kampersville around eleven in the morning and we each took three tabs of acid, and smoked bowls for hours. When I had heard of tabs before I figured they would dissolve quickly. Instead they stayed on my tongue scratching it for hours and slowly releasing the relentless, reckless freedom I’d have over myself. I thought I wasn’t high or tripping but once I stood up I realized how fucked up I truly was. I felt my phone vibrate under the pocket of my “daisy dukes” and burst out laughing because it tickled so much. Finally, ten minutes later I checked my phone once we were laying back down tanning and soaking up the sun and it was a text from my boyfriend of the time. He said he and his friends were on their way to Kampersville and I got so nervous. My body started shaking as if I was going up a rollercoaster because I didn’t want him to get mad at me for trippin’ balls. He always had given me such crap when I was high, he thought smoking weed was stupid. I on the other hand found a great relief in it.

Only fifteen minutes later him and his friends arrived and I felt them walking on the dock. Without them saying a word they dove over us into the water which ricocheted a huge splash of water over our bodies. When they got out of the water they came and sat next to us on the dock. This one certain thought kept running through my head “Maybe if I ask him to go with me I can distract him with sex so he won’t notice my true state of mind.” On that note, I texted him and asked if we could go to “Sandy Beach” in Salisbury with the inevitable winky face at the end of it which always meant something a little more. I told my friend that we would be back in a little bit. We were on our way to his hunk-a-junk swampy green colored dirty old jeep. I glanced over at him and the sun was so bright I thought my eyes were going to burn of dryness. This ease I was feeling from the acid soon turned in to a “what it” game with my mind. I was trying so hard to act and look normal that he suddenly looked over at me asking “Are you sick?”.  Then I knew I was trying a little too hard. Once we got to “Sandy Beach” we brought towels and went under the bridge and laid them down in the cold damp sand. We proceeded to do the dirty and roll around in the sand while cars drove over us. Those drivers never knew two people under that bridge were doing the unthinkable in the sand. Locked eyes, locked lips, locked fingers, legs wrapped around his boney hips.

When we were done we both put our clothes back on and carefully folded the towels. Every step in the sand my feet felt like they sank deeper and deeper as if they were being engulfed by this cold damp monster that I just had sex on and lost my innocence to. I felt the acid from my toes to the hair on my head. This is when I knew maybe this wasn’t such a good feeling anymore. My anxiety about going home to my parents that night was boiling over like a tea kettle ready to be taken off the burner. I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking and my heart felt like it was running a marathon inside of my chest. We started to walk back up towards the road and then got in the jeep, back to Kampersville. When we pulled in to the parking lot I discovered my friend sitting alone on the dock with a “What the fuck took you so long” face. Hands shaking, knees trembling, I made the walk down to the dock and laid my towel back down next to her and sat down. She told me her “trip” was starting to wear off and she didn’t want to walk to go get food with me but we both agreed we were starving. To make it up to my friend, I decided I would go and get Buffalo Popcorn Chicken and Pizza for us from the Kampersville Deli. The sun was starting to set on the lake and was making the lake almost look like a purple and pink ocean. Even though the walk from the beach to the deli is only about 500 yards, it felt like I was walking on a never ending road with lights constantly blinding me from the cars passing by.

“I Am The One Who…”

I am the one who carries her past on her shoulders.

I am the one who wants genuine happiness.

I am the one who hopes there will be a cure for breast cancer.

I am the one who dreams to have a college degree.

I am the one who is tired of being judged by her past.

I am the one who is tired of putting everyone else’s happiness first.

I am the one who is tired of seeing my mom scared every time she finds a new lump.

I am the one who is tired of being looked at like a failure because I had a baby at seventeen.

I am the one who will learn from her past; not dwell on it.

I am the one who will find happiness within herself.

I am the one who will support her mom no matter what occurs in her life.

I am the one who will graduate from college and become a counselor.