Descriptive Essay: The Polluted Beach

I sprinted across the rocky sand, serrated shells cutting my exposed feet, tiny rivers of blood trickling down my bare feet and off onto the stupid sand. The sun was beating down, sending powerful rays of light onto my burnt, evident back, the sweat glistening as it droped of me, my shorts clinging to my body from the sticky sweat, my heart beating rapidly, long hair housing my eyes and me huffing and puffing like I was the big bad wolf blowing down the worthless pigs house’s. I could see the end of the polluted beach, rubbish ran past from the strong gusts of painful wind. The choppy waves were crashing down, sending white foam everywhere. The vigorous current pulled the rubbish out to deep sea where the pirate ships use to sail and there

Then I saw something, It was a Treehouse, the ladder was old and broken, a risky climb. The wood was soggy with rusted nails poking out, a thin wooden plank acting as a roof. Inside was a dirty metal tap with a water tank under it full of dusty water and dead bugs. There was a small bed with a manky old blanket and in the corner of the room was a skeleton. A knife was on the ground, blood stains laid around it, the skeleton had chunks of flesh scattered around the bones. I shuddered and left the Treehouse. I climbed down the ladder and with my hands so sweaty, I lost my grip. I fall down, landing on a bunch of sharp sticks, blood flowing out of my cut skin. I laid there in pain, the trees jumping around me, with my head dizzy from the fall I struggled to crouch up clenching onto the pine tree. I leaned against the tree, then started to run, I ran through the whole forest disturbing the wildlife watching out for giant roots and spiderwebs. I heard the sound of a waves crashing, I ran towards the sound. I ended up at a beach. It wasn’t like the other beach, this one had soft, smooth sand and huge waves barreling down, brilliant for