Mexico Beach: A Short Story

A few weeks before Christmas last year, I and my friends Daniel, Emmanuel and John longboarded from my house up in Lakeland down to Daniel’s house down in the valley of Auburn. It was approximately a two and a half hour journey through the brisk air and on the slippery wet leaves. It took a bunch of twists and turns to get to Daniel’s apartment, all of our friends called his area “Mini Mexico” because everyone in his apartment complex was Mexican besides two Indian families that fit in. We arrived around five the sunny was already setting, we leaned our boards against the wall next to Daniel’s door. We walked into an already started party. We lined up to greet the relatives, I was in the back just hoping that

I sighed as I laid down my bulky big bag that I had packed the night before. Who knew that Florida could be so HOT. I decided to go for a swim right then and there, was that my mom yelling at me. It was,“Charity Berkheimer, if you do not come down here in five minutes we are leaving without you,”no! They can not leave without me. Where are we going anyway, it did not matter then. I just grabbed my blue one piece and dashed out the door.

The isolated beach of Cabo Blanco is where Tina got bitten by a procompsognathus. The road leading to the beach hugs the edge of a cliff and looks over the ocean. The beach itself, a two mile crescent made up of white sand, tropical trees, and warm pacific water, is located on the west coast of Costa Rica. Untouched wilderness makes up most of the national reserve, along with the exotic animals that roam free. Some animals that frequent the beach include howler and white-faced monkeys, three-toed sloths, and coatimundis. This scene is one of the most important because it foreshadows the coming events before the real story even begins.

California, and goes to a big school. At school, Ana gets a great opportunity of being able

Waves are crashing, and surfers are out. Huge water giants in the distance, and they are making a strong force of ripples in the direction of the shore. Me and my family have arrived. "It's Myrtle Beach!" I said. We browse the streets for our reserved hotel. We have arrived. The Sea Breeze Hotel, a cute little hotel, too. Everyone sits in the KIA, as my father heads in to check in with the front desk. He leaves the vehicle, and enters. A large amount of time passed, especially for check-ins. Ten minutes? My dad then exits the building, as I get ready to leap out the car, stretch my back, and get luggage. But then we all notice his concerned, yet serious, look. He enters the black SUV. My mother tells us all that they misheard him on the phone, and reserved a room with two beds, instead of four or five. We browsed the city streets, past dark, looking for vacant hotels. Spotted! We find a rather expensive hotel, but at least we have a roof over our head for tonight. We check-in, and get a perfect room. We pack-up, and take our space. We all slept well, with the ocean waves crashing on shore, and the gentle sea breeze through the balcony.

It was Sunday around 4:00 PM in Solana Beach. Rain clouds approached the shore from the west. The wind blew off the tops of waves, giving them a white cap. As the rain fell, the aquamarine color of the Pacific Ocean turned a brackish color, and shore birds huddled on the beach.

I stood there in amazement watching the ceaseless waves lap at the shore. The water shocked me with its beauty, the deep blue hues and white crests were a picture of paradise. I dropped my towel, sat on it and gazed out onto the incredible expanse of water. Being at the ocean in person is a totally different experience than looking at a picture or video. I sat there as my sisters ran out into the waves, at that moment I formally realized where I was. The overwhelming size of the glorious ocean made me feel very small. Thinking about Aurora, Indiana and what I had around me made me want to never return home. The oceans size, and being so far away from home shattered my inner world and rebuilt it into a more accurate size. For the longest time I thought that I would graduate high school go to a local college and have a job in the town I grew up in. I realized I was living at home with no thought whatsoever as to where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do with my life. My trip to the Gulf of Mexico made me realize that life is full of unknown possibilities, and I had an entire world that I needed to experience. Just going to Alabama had shown me the diversity of a different place. I realized there were other types of people out there, not just “farm boys” wearing boots and spitting dip

“When you get out of the airplane please call us, ok?” This was the third time my mother had said this. My sister and I kissed our parents goodbye and we headed towards the airport. I couldn't believe I was actually going to Mexico. I’ve never been to Mexico before. I was finally going to meet my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins.

As I stepped into the house from the cold winter day, I noticed a shaking, seemingly horrified Aunt Kit sitting at the table before my mother. She was loudly crying and muttering muffled sounds. The only words I could make out were, “Room 101, don’t go!” When mother noticed my presence, she scolds me. “Tiffany Rose Garcia! Get to your bed at once!”

She trips along the shore, stumbling on the countless rocks worn smooth by centuries of the ocean’s wrath. You can barely tell she’s crying; the wind pushes her tears away before they fully leave her wild, blue eyes. A sudden gust whips her blonde tresses into her face again; she reaches up for what feels like the millionth time to throw them over her shoulder. She turns to look at the waves pounding the shore. The crashes are deafening, and as she watches, frothy spray shoots high into the air.

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I decided to take my observations with me out into the world. This day happened on my spring break, in the beginning of April, my senior year. As I walked upon the beach the salty, floating breeze of Panama City was enough to make my knees go weak. I looked into the clear blue sky and saw the perfection of life. I took a moment to think about what nature has offered to me. Everything on this beach has its own unique feature and it has its own way of making you feel calm and relaxed.

This time, however, no one was to be seen, but silence and the ocean. Not a single soul to disturb my peace. The ocean glinted at me like a sea of diamonds. All I could hear was the whoosh of the dancing waves rolling against the sand. With one foot in the water, I felt the comforting wet sand. There was a natural connection between the waves and I. I no longer felt alone. I no longer felt confined. Rather I felt a force of freedom gushing through me. The breeze smelt like a breath of fresh air that could last forever. The air tasted like morning dew on the tip of my tongue. The sounds of waves crashing into the shore and the unexplainable serenity made this experience surreal. I had been longing for a moment like this my whole life.

My dad and I step over a chain, entering the stand that’s only for lifeguards, and sit on the edge with our bare feet dangling. We drink our steaming coffee while listening to the pure sound of the light waves crashing. There’s always high tides in the mornings. It’s now six and I can see the rays of the sun peeking over the endless ocean, covering the peaceful beach with a warm, orange blanket. Flocks of seagulls glide by, disappearing into the warm sun. Half of the sun now showing, more people are coming to the beach. One man, about 60 years old, brought his yellow paddle board. He paddles out

The place where I feel most comfortable is a place where I am calm. A place that is peaceful in its own ways. It is the place to go to get away from all my troubles. It is the one place where I could sit forever, and never get tired of just staring into the deepest blue I have ever seen. It is the place where I can sit and think the best. A place where nothing matters but what is in that little moment. The one place capable of sending my senses into an overload. This place is the ocean.

In the middle of the ocean, all that can be seen is miles and miles of the alluring ocean. The color of the waves are a spectacular mix of a light green, an astonishing teal, and the amazing darkness of the blue. The tides lightly brushing against the welcoming homes of all the nice people. In the small boat ahead contains an innocent child with his mother outside what can only be their house. The pleasant subtlety of the sea breeze peacefully floating in the air causes relaxation that cannot be helped.