Personal Narrative: Torri's Beach Home

A splintered, antique bookshelf collecting dust and holding years of memorable photo books stood tall in the hallway of my grandmother’s beach house. A torn book spine caught my attention. I grabbed the leathery album and sat down to take a peek. I turned back the crisp pages to find my absolute favorite picture of all. I saw my beautiful, cousin Torri and I walking across the large red granite jetties on the beach in Galveston. I adored Torri at the time and wanted to be close; however, our distinct age difference set us apart. When the picture was taken Torri had just graduated high school, and as for me I was graduating the sixth grade. On that magnificent day the sky looked like a watercolor painting filled with warm, vibrant colors.

I could smell the salty air once more and hear the sweet song of the seagulls soaring above. I stood right by Torri’s side admiring her beauty and the way the morning sun bounced off her glistening hair. Torri wore her favorite diamond earrings which she received on her seventeenth birthday; of course, I wanted a pair just like them. Without warning a large rock latched onto the back of my water shoe like a monster trying to escape the dark crevice down below. I could feel a tingling sensation in my toes as I turned to find my foot all contorted in an unnatural position. The dark red ooze came leaking out from the inside of my brand-new water shoe. Blood covered the sharp, pink granite like a murder scene. Torri glanced back to find me lying on the ground with my foot wedged in-between the jetty’s large

With every tug, I sliced my foot deeper and deeper. The tears burned my pink cheeks as they rolled down my face. The blood came gushing out revealing a white bone with tiny red specks all over. A wave, the size of a small car, began to accelerate our direction. Torri was a thrill seeker and loved the adrenaline rush, but as for me, not at all. It reminded me of a mean and massive football player gaining force to release on his frail opponent. I was indeed the unfortunate weakling, guaranteed to get smashed, fast and hard. I froze as the water began to charge. My foot began to pound perfectly in sync with the bulging of my