I was sitting there, my butt in the sand. I looked at the fire, blazing in the midst of the night. It was the last party of the summer to everyone else, but to me it was different. I heard the guitar being played by Drake, and I heard Jess’s singing. I felt the bottle in my palm, taking a swig and passing it on. I smelled the marshmallows; the smoke coming from the fire. But I couldn’t get a grip on one thing: that it was the end. Yes, the end of the summer, but the end of something much more. I couldn’t find a heart doner, and this was my last week here in North Carolina. Last night of the best summer of my life. Last summer of beach parties, and carnivals. But I wasn’t going home after tonight, I was going to stay here. I was going to die here, with my best friends. In Mia’s arms, with the feel of sand in between my feet, and the smell of ocean in the air. Tonight was the end.
Funny to start a story with the end, right? Well it seemed to make more sense that way. The beginning is complicated, complex, but I guess if I’m going to tell the story, I better tell it right. Starting from the first day of summer:
“It’s only the summer.” My mom said, not looking me in the eye.
She got up and put my bags inside the house, attempting to keep herself from having to look at me. All I wanted was to go home, to be safe in New Jersey, falling asleep to the sounds of busses and trains and cars. Not the sound of ocean and nothing.
I walked outside onto the beach. The only good part was that my aunt’s house was right on the water. I looked around and saw that no one was out, being as it was 10:00 at night. I stripped off my shirt and pants, revealing the striped bikini I was hiding underneath. I walked to the ocean and buried my feet in the cool sand. I closed my eyes and dove in. The water was cold, freezing even, but I plugged my nose and sunk to the bottom. No, not trying to kill myself; just to make myself temporarily forget everything.
