Please review this essay for grammar and content. Its my rough draft. The main guideline for this essay is that it is for one snippet of time and no more. Thanks
It is a typical hot summer day in August 1998. I am at Mita point, Okinawa, Japan. Bus loads of mainland Japanese tourists to the right of us, trading cameras, taking pictures of each other, looking at the stupid Americans on the cliff. I am not appropriately dressed for the occasion, a pair of cut off desert camouflage pants and a t-shirt. At least I am wearing some dive boots to protect my feet. The water is a deep blue with a slight sheen from the sun. The air is calm and thick with humidity. I broke a sweat just getting here. What am I doing up here? Whose idea was this again? There is no changing my mind now. I am next on deck, standing on a huge rock at the top of a sheer cliff face.
Hansen says from behind me "It is easy just step off the edge." Looking down "Is the water cold?" Morrison looks up at me and yells back "No it's great." He went first and screamed the whole way down. He looks like he is about a mile away from up here. It is actually about 75 feet with 50 feet of water below that. However, I would not believe that right now. I am not afraid of heights but jumping from this far up is a little ridiculous. I look down again, my heart beats a little faster, and I shake my head. The old cliché' "If you friends jump of a bridge? Would you?" comes to mind. It makes me smile a little. Now I am ready. I take a few steps backward, take a deep breathe, two quick strides, and I am off. What did I just do?
All sound is gone now, just the wind in my ears. How much farther down is it? So far that I have time to think about it. Should I hold my nose? I have my legs together that is for sure. What about my arms? No time left now impact is imminent. Slap, may arms hit the surface, thrusting them upward. Should have put them at my side. The water is freezing. Morrison is such a liar. Water shoots up my nose, the salt-water burns. I open my eyes. Everything is dark around me. My ears are popping; I must have gone deep. I want to breathe; I guess I should have taken some air on the way down. My pulse is racing I can feel it in my neck. I start pushing up, pain in my chest from low oxygen. Almost there now, surface getting brighter as I go. Finally, sunlight, air, I take a deep breathe. I look around left to right. Wiping the water from my eyes, there is Morrison looking at me with anticipation. I yell, "You lied, the water is freezing." He laughs, "Ready to go again?" I look up at the cliff, Hansen's pale face looking down at us. I look back to Morrison smiling "How far to the top?"
It is a typical hot summer day in August 1998. I am at Mita point, Okinawa, Japan. Bus loads of mainland Japanese tourists to the right of us, trading cameras, taking pictures of each other, looking at the stupid Americans on the cliff. I am not appropriately dressed for the occasion, a pair of cut off desert camouflage pants and a t-shirt. At least I am wearing some dive boots to protect my feet. The water is a deep blue with a slight sheen from the sun. The air is calm and thick with humidity. I broke a sweat just getting here. What am I doing up here? Whose idea was this again? There is no changing my mind now. I am next on deck, standing on a huge rock at the top of a sheer cliff face.
Hansen says from behind me "It is easy just step off the edge." Looking down "Is the water cold?" Morrison looks up at me and yells back "No it's great." He went first and screamed the whole way down. He looks like he is about a mile away from up here. It is actually about 75 feet with 50 feet of water below that. However, I would not believe that right now. I am not afraid of heights but jumping from this far up is a little ridiculous. I look down again, my heart beats a little faster, and I shake my head. The old cliché' "If you friends jump of a bridge? Would you?" comes to mind. It makes me smile a little. Now I am ready. I take a few steps backward, take a deep breathe, two quick strides, and I am off. What did I just do?
All sound is gone now, just the wind in my ears. How much farther down is it? So far that I have time to think about it. Should I hold my nose? I have my legs together that is for sure. What about my arms? No time left now impact is imminent. Slap, may arms hit the surface, thrusting them upward. Should have put them at my side. The water is freezing. Morrison is such a liar. Water shoots up my nose, the salt-water burns. I open my eyes. Everything is dark around me. My ears are popping; I must have gone deep. I want to breathe; I guess I should have taken some air on the way down. My pulse is racing I can feel it in my neck. I start pushing up, pain in my chest from low oxygen. Almost there now, surface getting brighter as I go. Finally, sunlight, air, I take a deep breathe. I look around left to right. Wiping the water from my eyes, there is Morrison looking at me with anticipation. I yell, "You lied, the water is freezing." He laughs, "Ready to go again?" I look up at the cliff, Hansen's pale face looking down at us. I look back to Morrison smiling "How far to the top?"
