A Second Chance

A life-changing event

It was a beautiful summers day, the sun was shining and the sand was warm, not a single whisp of wind could be heard nor felt. All the island birds seemed to sense the tranquility in the air choosing to express their happiness by singing a wonderous melody. As I skipped down the golden beach towards the saphire sea, I dug my feet into the sand giggling in joy when I felt the tiny particles tickle my toes and coat my ankles. I continued on, excited to play in the cool blue of the ocean. Slowly stepping one foot at a time I watched as the gentle hands of the sea enveloped me and brought me further into its watery depths. After a few minutes my feet started to lose there hold on the seabed and I floated upwards kicking my legs and batting my arms so I could stay above the water and move as I pleased. I swam further and further enjoying the delicate lapping of the waves against my skin. It calmed me and took away my sense of caution allowing me to fully embrace the peaceful quiet of the ocean.

After a few more minutes of swimming I paused to take a look at my surroundings hoping to spot my parents so I could persuade them to join, however, when I look towards the beach I realize they are quite far away. I notice that all the children and families previously swimming around me are now also further away. Panic floods through me as I frantically search for someone, anyone. A small tug on my leg tears my eyes away from the people on the shore and brings me back to the reality of the situation. I was told to stay in the shallow water however when I stretch my feet out to try and stand I notice there is no seabed beneath me, or at least non that I can reach. Another tug, this time on my waist, alerts me of a danger I had all but forgotten about. The current. With a sudden violent jerk I am dragged beneath the waves, the once cool and conforting sea now a harsh icy emptiness that swallows me before spitting me back out again. I gasp for breath trying to fight against the strength of the sea, clawing fruitlessly at the water. Again, I am pulled down. I see the sun shining down through the water, its rays are beautiful. A small moment of silence in the thrashing fury of the sea.

I stare in wonder at the alluring light, forgetting the iminent danger I am in and relaxing my body. Encompassing the feeling of total tranquility and allowing myself to be tricked into a false sense of security. My body feels heavy and fatigued, but just before I could let my eyes flutter close I feel two rough, calloused hands grasp my shoulders and haul me out of the water, holding me tightly as they swim back to shore. My eyes shoot open but immediately close again when a stinging sensation occurs. My mouth opens and I start gasping and choking trying to breathe air into my lungs but water blocks it. Terror racks my body as I am unable to breathe and I start coughing and hacking feeling my lungs compress as the water is forced out of them. I almost throw up while heaving and trying to rid my mouth of the awful taste of seawater. I feel myself being placed on the sand and slowly raise my head to see the person who saved me. He is an old man probably in his fifties, a long silver beard and harsh, stoic features. I can see the lines and grooves on his face where age has not been kind to him. Yet, what draws my attention is his eyes. The bright blue is not like the ocean but like a diamond, glistening like a rare gem hidden beneath mounds of rock waiting to be discovered. They hold so much pain, but also so much kindess within them. He stares at me worry weaved into those sunken features.

All of a sudden I feel two weights crash into me and arms wrap around me hugging me from behind. I jump at the abrupt movement, my head turning to look at them. My eyes widen in realization once I see the tear streaked faces of my parents. They are checking me over to make sure im not injured and asking me if i’m ok but their questions fall on deaf ears as I am stuck staring at the man who saved me. I hear them thank the man over and over again before cradling me in their warm embrace. I wrap my arms around them and hug them back, tears of my own falling as the reality and shock of what had just happened came crashing down on me. Out of the corner of my eye I see the man nod and smile in response to my parents thanks before standing and turning to leave.

“Who are you?” I ask before he can leave, desperate for an answer.

He smiles sadly at this, a longing look crossing his face. “No one special, little one.”

The old man continues to walk away into the distance, my eyes follow him till he dissapears from view. Maybe I will see him again, some day.

23 years later:

“Sadly, ever since that day I have never seen the man again. However I am extremely grateful for what he did for me, without him I wouldn’t be here right now.” I said, a few solem tears slipping down my now matured and slightly wrinkled face. Tears of gratefullness for the mans kind act, and tears of grief from having to relive my greatest fear.

“Wow, thank you for sharing that with us.” The man comforted, he was the host of a show where people were invited to tell their near-death experiences and I had been picked to tell mine.

Our connversation continued, cheering me up and distracting me from my earlier distress. But one thought lingered in the back of my head, would I ever see him again?

An old man stared at a tv screen, a show playing distantly in the background. A happy smile rested upon his face, his features lax and smooth though wrinkles ran deep into the crevices of his skin. A long silvery beard signalled his old age, unkempt and wild in its appearance. A single tear ran down his saggy cheek and dripped onto his jumper, dampening the fibres, though he did not care.

He sat alone in his house with nothing but his own thougts to listen to. Reaching over to a coffee table he picked up a photo, his old withered hands frail and bony, shaking as he brought it towards him. The picture was of a young girl around the age of 12, smiling a wide toothy grin while prancing around on the sand without a care in the world. On the reverse side of the photo was a handwritten message, clearly from a child, that read:

‘To grandad, the best grandad in the whole wide world! Love Poppy xx’

He held the photo delicately, slowly bringing it towards his chest and caressing the face of the young girl. More tears started to pour from the mans hooded eyes as he held the photo tight to his chest remembering the life of the little girl.

At least he was able to save one child.

1263 words.
Thank you for reading this if you do, hope you have a wonderful day :)