Tiffany Palumbo

top of the one furthest out, digging the toes of my filthy, formerly white Keds into the sharp corners of the volcanic rock. A small curl of sickly yellow sea foam rolled towards me. I can reenact the scene from The Little Mermaid where the waves crash against the rocks! I thought. I wanted to get the scene just right, so I only paid attention to the foam, and not to the thick belt of water that was pushing it forward. The foam touched the face of the rock, and I was nearly knocked backwards with the full force of the wave. The cold hit me like a medicine ball to the chest as seawater filled my mouth and lungs. I had almost regained my balance when the second wave hit, wiping me off the rock completely. The water was shallow, maybe four feet deep, but I was only four feet tall, and the mini maelstrom meant that my attempts to stand upright were undermined. The sand was sucked out from under my feet, and I was constantly fighting to break the surface.

Each time my head broke above the water, my body screamed at me to yell for help and to take in great, greedy gasps of air. It expected me to do both when I could do neither.