Daniela Sandoval Q4 Portfolio Branching Out | Page 13

Wave

The fight-or-flight response refers to an organism’s physiological reaction when it feels threatened. Ultimately, for the sake of survival, an animal will either choose to flee or face a threat. But sometimes, neither of these may be a choice.

The breeze whispers as it dances through the palm trees and it gives my skin warm kisses. The sand is prickly under my thighs, as I sit crossed legged beyond the soothing waves. I like going to the beach whenever I need peace; when life becomes a little too hectic and overwhelming. The crashing of water is a lullaby: reassuring and slow. All around me there’s sand. Endless damp sand, as if it had rained the night before. And in the whole expanse of the beach, as far as I can see, I am alone. Not lonely, since the the swaying palm tree fronds keep me company—but alone. In a peaceful state of mind where the only thing I have to do is to exist.

With the tranquility of it all, I fall asleep. Until I am awakened by a sudden commotion. The wind has strengthened and the clouds have become a darker grey. No longer comforting, it makes the palm trees thrash with forceful gushes. The once turquoise waves have turned into the color of ash. The ocean has begun to riot within itself and the calming quiet is gone; lost to the ruckus from all around. A strong roar that seeps through the branches. I stand up, with grains of sand sticking to the back of my legs, and look around. The beach itself seems be warning me, through the uproar of the ocean. “Run!” it urges me “Run and don’t look back!” Anxiety rises in my chest and leaves me trembling inside.

But as I try to lift my feet, I find that I am unable to move my legs. I try to lift them forward, but find that it refuses to do so. The wind blows harsher and the clouds in the sky turn darker. Every nerve in my body goes into overdrive, until I feel like I will faint from the nausea. It’s too much, I think, this is too much.

Just as I feel as if the tumult couldn’t get worse, I look at the ocean. Retracting and pulling back in, forming massive waves—each one bigger than the last. During one of the instances where the water pulls back in, one final imposing crest forms, farther from the shore. A wave that seems to form slowly. It is a deep blue color, impossible to see through. It is huge—bigger than anything I have ever seen; a ten story building, at least. Coming at me; darkening the sky as it approaches.

It is in this moment that every single fiber of my being burns like white light, begging me to turn around, to do anything. The wind and the crashing waves seem to be laughing a horrid and mocking laugh. But right then, darkness comes over me—my feet still tied to the ground by an invisible magnetic force—and swallows me whole.

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