Early on a beautiful summer day on
the island, my friend, our dads, and I went
clamming. While we usually went to explore
the nearby streams, we found none and
decided to play on the oyster beds. We
ran across the beds in our fathers’ large
rain boots, jumping from bed to bed. The
voice in the back of my head was stronger
that day, yet I pushed it aside as usual.
As I was venturing to the oyster bed that
was farthest out, my foot slipped at the
last second. As I hurdled into the next, I
slammed my hand down to stop myself. A
searing pain took over my arm, from my
fingertips to my elbow. I turned to see
that the thin waters I had just leaped over
were now red. I heard a faint scream from
my friend in the background, then quick
footsteps as she ran to get our fathers. I
could not speak. I could no longer hear the
waves crashing on nearby rocks, and my
vision was blurred. Around me, below the
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shallow waters, was marsh mud that I would sink right into.
Mixed Media
Mary Ruth Nagel At that moment I felt helpless. I regretted going this far out
and not being careful. I wished that I had listened to that faint
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voice telling me to slow down, go back. It was then, for the first
time, that I thought of all the wonderful things I could lose: friends, family, loved
ones. All of these things I lived for gave me hope and enough strength to stand
and cry out once more. Soon, my dad was helping me to the shore. I watched the
sand in the near distance the whole way, contemplating the gray color, when I
looked up and realized that I had blacked out and was surrounded by dull gray.
I fell limp, and he carried me the rest of the way to the shore, my friend and her
dad keeping pressure on the palm of my wounded hand, helping me regain my
vision.
Though the small scrapes on my knees and fingers have healed, I still
have a small scar on my right palm, blue and red on raised skin, to remind me
of that day. When I see it, I am reminded of everything I would have missed. I
am reminded of all of the people in my life and how valuable they are to me.
I learned to listen to the voice in the back of my head. That painful, scarring
incident taught me how lucky I am to be alive and how quickly life can be taken
away, so I live every day to the fullest.
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