Oyster Bed
Madeleine Hardt
Class of 2018
I look down at the murky waters in front of me, a deep red stain
spreading among them. Suddenly, I no longer have the strength to hold
myself up and fall into a squat. Pain prickles in my knees, and I watch
blood drip off my fingertips, onto the shards of oyster shells beneath me.
I cry for help, yet no words leave my lips. I watch as pictures flash by my
eyes, my vision now speckled with black dots. I see my family, friends,
some of my fondest memories. I stand up quickly and put all my strength
into one last cry for help.
As a young child, I spent most of my summers on Hilton Head Island
running around gator ponds, climbing trees, catching lizards and crabs,
swinging on rope vines, and swimming as far out into the ocean as I
could. Like most children, I had few cares in the world and a very small
realization about how valuable my life was and how much I treasured those
around me. I did not regard the possible effects of the dangerous things
I did, and even if I did, I ignored the thought. I learned to push back that
voice in the back of my head until it was small and faint. One summer, my
perspective on life changed when I caught a glimpse of what it would be
like to lose it all.
Revolution
Cut Paper Collage
Alexandra Cook
32
Class of 2014