Personal Narrative-Myrtle Beach

It started to all look the same after a while. The same hotel buildings over and over again. The sound of the waves like clockwork beating on the sand. My feet raced across the grainy substance below me, jumping from one sand bar to the next. The tide was out, creating little islands for the perfect chance to bound from one to another. I felt like Barbie, the island princess, bouncing over the gargantuan valleys to the next mound of sand. Before I knew it, Poseidon had his grip on me, I was definitely lost. Even though the towering hotel buildings all seemed the same, I continued my journey down the endless North Myrtle Beach located in South Carolina. After at least an hour of hopping around the mini islands, a middle-aged woman with long, dark hair, like Selena Golmez’s, approached me and asked, “Sweetie, are you lost?” And me, being the Einstein I was, replied, “I don’t think so, my hotel is right over there… at least I think it is…” I looked around puzzled at the fact my parents weren’t in their usual spots, scattered like the pieces of a scrabble game. And that’s when it occurred to me that I was the one that wasn’t in her usual spot. I realized people on the beach

They’re gone! Where am I?! Take me home! I want to go home!” As I was sobbing on the way to the lifeguard chair, the dark haired woman calmed me down and made me ask the lifeguard for help. I remember the way he looked. Like Goliath and I was little David with what seemed like no chance from escaping the grip of his hand on mine. Making a scene, I didn’t really have to say anything before the lifeguard grabbed his walkie-talkie and started talking jibberish. While doing my best to answer mister lifeguard’s numerous questions, I wasn’t distracted enough from my intense embarrassment. Bless that poor woman’s soul for dealing with a screaming five-year-old completely lost on the coast of South