Creative Writing: Ursula's Place In The Beach

Also, this shows how Bethany has courage by taking on the sea as she rides the waves to Nationals. Afterwards, practicing everyday with small waves and progressing Bethany has regained hope. Every time Bethany steps into the water she is reminded of the past, but she overcomes it and restores hope as she takes on the competitions and starts to acheive her dreams by doing what she

The wet tiles that were beneath my feet felt cold, and moist. The locker room was filled with the sound of scalding water slapping the tile floor harshly. The room felt hot and humid like a summer day in Florida. I could feel my anxiety burning within me, in the same way a fire burns down a forest. It grows profusely worse as the second hand on the clock above my locker ticks away. I quickly changed into my swim trunks, and crept into the swimming area with fear and anticipation. I tiptoed my way down the stairs that led into the pool. I could feel the brisk water slowly creep up my leg as I forced myself deeper and deeper. I was on my way to my mother who was going to try and teach me how to do a back float. I remember tipping

In the consuming darkness her body began to float upwards. Her mouth was open, letting in small discreet amounts of air, trying to buy as much time as she could before she ran out. Her fragile body was suspended in an awkward posture with her torso jutted forward and her limbs moving like a clockwork doll. Amongst the relentless whipping of the undulating waves she could hear her sister’s scream. She felt herself rise upwards as she continued to flail. She had to survive. She had to somehow reach the surface of the water and survive. She didn’t want to die. Not now. She was running out of air, no longer able to fight the urge to breathe. She looked up to see the sunlight, but she saw none. Then it dawned on her. She wouldn’t make it. She let

“The Swimmer” is an allegory that is narrated in third person point of view as someone who is observing Neddy’s journey. This

With her new familiarity with the sea, Edna constructs a divergent perspective of the water and its potent force in her life. The new awareness gives Edna courage to face her fears. Instead of depending on someone to help her in the water, she decides to start swimming by herself. This act represents a major step in Edna's awakening to independence. One day, Edna becomes possessed with a power that she all of a sudden realizes she has inside her. " A feeling of exultation overtook her, as if some power of significant import had been given her soul. She grew daring and reckless, overestimating her strength. She wanted to swim far out, where no woman had swum

It is often a challenging task to embark upon the mastery of a new skill. However, it is important to challenge oneself. If one is not challenged, they will not overcome their fears nor will they achieve their full potential. In “For Julia, in Deep Water,” John N. Morris describes the arms of the swimming instructor as “merciless for [Julia’s] sake” (8). The instructor must challenge Julia, otherwise the fear of drowning will not be real for her. Without that fear and challenge, Julia will not be able to learn to swim.

After Robert proposes a swim, everyone is ready to follow him, but he lingers at the rear of the crowd with the two lovers. The Pontelliers and Ratignolles walk ahead, and Mrs. Pontellier wonders why Robert sometimes chooses not to spend every waking minute with her. She misses him whenever he's not there. The walk to the beach provides a lot of sensory stimulation: people are singing; the sea, earth, and flowers each gives off a pungent smell; and the seascape appears calm and mystical. Mrs. Pontellier, who has been trying to learn how to swim the entire summer, suddenly and miraculously begins to swim through the ocean, much to the surprise of her companions. Feeling strong and exuberant, she swims out alone and suddenly panics. When she

She flung the bathroom door open and felt her throat tighten at the scene. Her loving boyfriend was laying in the bathtub clearly dead with the water overflowing over the sides of the tub. His eyes were glazed over, looking almost made out of glass, and his skin had started to become discolored. Letting out a guttural scream, she ran to the side of the tub and tried to lift him out. However, she knew it was too late and he was too heavy for her to lift. She sunk to the wet floor with tears falling from her eyes as she turned off

In this extraordinary book, the world’s most extraordinary distance swimmer writes about her emotional and spiritual need to swim and about the almost mystical act of swimming itself. Lynne Cox trained hard from age nine, working with an Olympic coach, swimming five to twelve miles each day in the Pacific. At age eleven, she swam even when hail made the water “like cold tapioca pudding” and was told she would one day swim the English Channel. Four years later—not yet out of high school—she broke the men’s and women’s world records for the Channel swim. In 1987, she swam the Bering Strait from America to the Soviet Union—a feat that,

I dove through the cold currents, feeling my hands create an opening through the water. I closed my aching eyes and let the water submerge me, pulling me in. The sun cast shadows on the floor of the pool, shifting every now and then. I could feel the warmth of the sun as I swam further. I sighed, deeply content.

In “Drown”, the central moment occurs with the line: “He was stronger than me and held me down until water flooded my nose and throat,” (Diaz, 94) which describes a scene at the public pool, where the narrator is almost drowned by

There was a burning sensation going down her cheeks, they wouldn't stop. And no matter how hard she tried to hold it back she just ended up sobbing harder, taking large stuttering breaths every second. She could barely see, the tears clouded her eyes and she felt oh-so weak.

She swiftly swam towards my cave with a purpose. She shivered from the obvious temperature change due to the lack of sunlight in my cave and looked around, observing each wall filled with potions and obscure ingredients for said potions. “Ursula, I want to become human; I have found the love of my life. We will marry and live on land, and I don't care what my father says; I'm in love!”

The thick shroud of dark suffocates her as she runs for air, for freedom. But sinister hands refuse to give up. They still grab for her, attacking her now tender flesh, clawing at her, ripping fabric from her dress, trying their hardest to pull her back into their sea. Somehow she manages to break away from their grasp and runs for the light that shines like heaven, laying miles ahead.

Mio picked up his phone and opened up the music application, and pressed the shuffle button before placing it back into his pocket. The lyrics were slightly muffled through the fabric, but he could hear them clear enough. He smiled, leaning back in the armchair, this is my favorite song, he commented, noticing that the goo in the corner seemed to be collapsing along to the rhythm of the song. His smile faltered slightly as he thought about just how blue it was: deep, drinkable, and dark as the bottom of the well where he’d fallen down as a kid and gotten stuck for days, eyeing the sky through its reflection in the water as he pulled his knees to his chest. He’d always been scared of drowning and heights ever since then. The mass undulated. Mio shuddered as he felt a nausea rise in his lungs, that slowly swelled to encompass his entire