I was assigned this prompt to prepare for college essays. Here's what I've got.
It was at that moment I realized my mistake. The waves beat against my bare face as my eyes turned frantically, desperately searching for any sign of land. The adrenalin in my blood surged as my arms beat vigorously at the incredible body of water, but movement never came. Like a playground bully the ocean mocked my feeble attempts to save my own life. The waves became all the more vicious as my body wore down, and quickly began to float, not unlike a scrap of driftwood.
The storm raged on, quickly scuttling our small yacht, leaving only the distinct fluorescent glow of what I presumed to be a life vest.
"Oh, please, please!" I yelled constantly as I paddled as quickly as possible, mercilessly damning my fatigued muscles, forcing them to become useful in this final stretch. The glow became larger and larger as the rain wet my already soaking face, transforming in my mind from a mere life vest into a small vessel, worthy of voyage at sea. I clambered on, flopping onto my back with a echoed thud, and cried.
"Thank you God, Jesus, Allah," I shouted at the sky, "Anyone that will listen!" And I slept. I had knocked unconscious from shear fatigue, while the rain died down and the skies cleared. My eyes shot open at 6 or so in the morning, with a brisk wind and a rising sun shining on the horizon. It would have been beautiful had my situation been less dire. Taking it all in at once, I looked over the side of the small boat and dry heaved until my throat felt raw and bloody. Tears filled my eyes. I was trapped,
At some point my mind adjusted to the thought of dying, lingering about the currents until my inevitable burial at sea. This understanding came perhaps the second third day at sea, when the meager, rain soaked provisions on the ship ironically ran dry, leaving me only with a small pack of crackers and 3 bottles of water.
It was at that moment I realized my mistake. The waves beat against my bare face as my eyes turned frantically, desperately searching for any sign of land. The adrenalin in my blood surged as my arms beat vigorously at the incredible body of water, but movement never came. Like a playground bully the ocean mocked my feeble attempts to save my own life. The waves became all the more vicious as my body wore down, and quickly began to float, not unlike a scrap of driftwood.
The storm raged on, quickly scuttling our small yacht, leaving only the distinct fluorescent glow of what I presumed to be a life vest.
"Oh, please, please!" I yelled constantly as I paddled as quickly as possible, mercilessly damning my fatigued muscles, forcing them to become useful in this final stretch. The glow became larger and larger as the rain wet my already soaking face, transforming in my mind from a mere life vest into a small vessel, worthy of voyage at sea. I clambered on, flopping onto my back with a echoed thud, and cried.
"Thank you God, Jesus, Allah," I shouted at the sky, "Anyone that will listen!" And I slept. I had knocked unconscious from shear fatigue, while the rain died down and the skies cleared. My eyes shot open at 6 or so in the morning, with a brisk wind and a rising sun shining on the horizon. It would have been beautiful had my situation been less dire. Taking it all in at once, I looked over the side of the small boat and dry heaved until my throat felt raw and bloody. Tears filled my eyes. I was trapped,
At some point my mind adjusted to the thought of dying, lingering about the currents until my inevitable burial at sea. This understanding came perhaps the second third day at sea, when the meager, rain soaked provisions on the ship ironically ran dry, leaving me only with a small pack of crackers and 3 bottles of water.
