Personal Narrative: The Ocean Beach In Daytona, Florida

There I stand on the Atlantic Ocean beach in Daytona, Florida. It’s 7:49 A.M, June 28, 2015. I feel my size ten feet sink into the frosty sand. With my board in my left arm, and sand covering my body, I seize my direction towards the blue ocean. As I halt at the base of the monumental ocean, I gaze in both directions, not a life in sight. I feel at peace, solitude, in my own meager world. As the crisp ocean mist wipes my sand replete face, I bounce into the ocean with my board under my body, cruising into the profound blue sea.
I wade in the water about forty yards out of the beach. I survey the waves impelling towards my slim body frame. My lanky legs hover beneath my board, and I feel the chilled ocean water from my knees down. As my

eyes catch a wave, I embark my surf with fluttering arms, and dexterous kicks. As the wave elevates my mass, I spring to my feet and coast to the sands. As the thorn-like mist welts my face, a massive dark shadow haunts the corner of my left eye. I can’t help but ponder the worst.
“Isaac Barnes , age 14, was attacked by a shark on June 28, 2015.”
It is just what flashed upon my mind during an abrupt second during my surf. My long beach blonde hair floats behind my head. My sky-blue eyes focused on my destination, my dark complected body maneuvering with a range of motions that propels my lean body on an accelerated joy excursion. As my ride mellows out, I plop down on my bottom and paddle back out to sea.
…
Christmas of 2006, I woke up as a dazed six year old boy, anxious to open my presents from “Santa Claus.” “Mommy mommy!” I squawked. “Look what I got from Santa Claus!” I pulled out a long beginner surfboard. *Screams* “Mommy! I can’t believe I got my own, new surfboard! I can ride all day with the fishies and sharks!” “Sounds like a boat load of fun, son. Just be safe out on the water. I don’t want my little precious to be hurt.” My loving mother said.
I accelerated toward the waves, with my mouth wide open and my young body full of satisfaction.

It was a very cool day, overcast with a drip of rain here and there. Waves were vicious, water was as cold as the arctic, and my weak body was always being compared to a pencil. I began my swim as I attempted to avert the waves but, I seemed impossible. They kept pushing me back, yelling at me to go back to the beach, today is not your day. The waves, they swept me away with ease. I was a squirrel in a dog's mouth, a ragdoll, being tossed every which way. Tossed off balance underwater, I was baffled. My lungs whimpered for air, my body slowly drifting away. The aspect was blackening, the whole world spinning in circles, then, I felt weightless…
“Get the doc now!” Mother shrieked. Bump, crash, bang, the stretcher carried my lifeless body down a populous hall. “Get and I-V now! Heart beats are slowing, we may need resuscitation, get me the shocks now!” “Oh my lord, no please don’t take my boy lord! Not now…” My mom snuffled. *Whimpers and cries”
I remember that crisis every time I feel like a tragedy occurs. It gets me in my feels. But as the daredevil I am, I decide one last voyage on the waves will not disturb or harm anyone. My muscles are engaged in swimming motions and my eyes concentrate on the tide heading my way. I spot it, the wave, the holy grail of

surfing.