The Beach - A Story by Clemmie G-G
Read Clemmie G-C's gripping story with a twist, written as part of a creative writing assignment in Form 3 (10-11yrs). Alternatively, you can watch Clemmie reciting her story to the school during assembly here.
By Clemmie G-C
Happily, I walked, taking in the still, untroubled waves and sand as soft as silk. The beach is a quiet space I like to go alone, I walk from my house with a good book and flop down on a rock or swim in the sea. Today was the hottest of a series of summer days and I was planning to spend the whole day reading on the sand. Hours passed. I began to lose interest in my story (one where the character gets shipwrecked on an island) and started to notice a shape in the water. What could it be? I stood up, thinking I might be able to swim out to the object.
Cautiously, I threw myself into the waves and started to kick. After a while, I began to tire, my arms ached complacently, and my legs felt on fire, but I couldn’t turn back, I was too close. With a rush of joy, I snatched what looked like a bottle from the waves, it was slimy and green, but it seemed to bear a message inside. Wearily, I turned around, and to my horror all I could see were waves, all around me was an endless blue as far as the eye could see. I had been carried away in a fierce current without noticing, now strong waves were forcing themselves on top of me, a thunderous storm was starting, and the world turned black.
I was lying on soft silky sand with my head aching and my eyes closed. I wanted to stay here undisturbed forever. Slowly, I became aware of a stinging pain in my toe. then the other one. I looked up groggily and saw a ruby red crab brandishing its pincers at my feet. I yelled and scrambled out of the way, only then did I feel a slimy something leaning against my hand. Looking over I saw the bottle I had swum out to! That thought seemed to nudge something in my waterlogged brain, I was not on my beach, I must have washed up on this unknown island.
I was alone.
Desperately, I looked around for any sign of familiarity, and my eyes fell upon the message in a bottle. I reached out a shaking hand and, with difficulty, opened the top. Like a snake, the note slid out: ‘Don’t go in the water, you could end up here too.’
‘Don’t go in the water’ I said furiously, ‘it's too late for that!’
‘So, you’ve been shipwrecked too,’ said a slow, deep voice behind me. I spun around. Before me stood a young man. He had a deeply tanned skin and looked thin and worn.
‘You found my note and you still washed up?’ he said rather scornfully.
‘I didn’t know it read that!’ I snapped back. Hurrying over to a large palm tree, I started to snatch up leaves. Suddenly, a cunning plan had formed in my head. I would build a raft to paddle home on. I had been good at raft building, so I decided to ignore the man and focus on surviving.
Several weeks passed. The raft grew and grew as I added layers of driftwood until, one day, I paddled the whole way around the island on it without sinking once! I ran, lighthearted, into the trees to collect supplies for my long journey home. Delightedly, I ran out to my raft, laden with food, but to my horror, I found it gone and the clear silhouette of a man sailing away across the water. Sailing on my homemade raft and disappearing towards the horizon. I couldn’t believe it. That horrible young man who had sneered at me when I washed up had stolen my ticket home! He could have a life now, but I will stay here forever.
Until the next person is stranded on the beach.