"Sandy Beach"
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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.
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