31st of August: Homework: Personal Experience Narrative

     Sometimes I can't sleep... Sometimes, I'm too scared to close my eyes. The scenes from that time keep on coming back, repeating themselves like a broken CD... The only difference is... I can't seem to turn them off.
i can still smell the ocen, see the blue sky, the people, the happiness and hear my dad yelling at me:
     "Don't go too far!" He shouted from the shore.
     I heard those words far too many times to care. I stayed in the same place, jumping up and down the waves, enjoying my summer. I didn't know what the consequences of those actions would be. Not until I decided to swim back to the shore. I started to move my arms and legs in the water. I moved... only backwards. The water was too strong, it kept pushing me further from the shore. I tried different styles of swimming and different paces,  nothing worked. When I was losing all my hopes of swimming back to the shore, I felt a pair of strong hands that I identified as my dad's push me. His hands didn't push me that far, but I sure felt stronger. After a while of active swimming, two pairs of slim hands lead me back to the shore, two strangers that I didn't even know helped me back. They looked thinner than me yet they were much stronger. As I was continuing to struggle in the water, I realized that I couldn't find my dad, nor could I find my sister. I heard my dad's voice from afar, in the ocean.
     "Help! Help!" he yelled in Vietnamese. No one seemed to notice him. I looked back to the ocean as I walked into the shore. My sister was out there, too. Much further from the land than my dad was.
     "Tania! Dad!" I yelled continuously, not caring if any one was looking at me or if my dad and sister could hear me. Their lives were all that mattered. Everything started to blur and I lost sight of my dad and sister. My heart was beating fast, picking up it's pace with every breath I took. I wanted to swim to them and help but I knew that no matter how much I try, I'll be no help to my dad and sister out in the ocean. I could still hear my dad shouting for help. The first few drops of tears fell on my cheeks. That's when my dad slowly neared the shore and came out of the water. I ran to him as fast as I could but he yelled and pointed at my cousins and brother:
     "Get them out of the water!"
     I did as he said. I ran to the little kids and told them to get out.
     My sister was still out in the ocean and all I did was stand there with the kids. After a few seconds of waiting, my brother ran back into the water.
         "No!" I yelled and pushed my brother back to the shore. "Please, just stay here.' I said in Vietnamese so that he could understand. I hugged him and my cousins tightly. I didn't want to risk any more lives.
     I looked back into the ocean; my sister was getting further and further away, so far that I could barely see her. A group of 4 men ran into the water and swam to where my sister was. For a while, I didn't see them, nor could I see my sister. My heart started to beat even faster and I felt like I wasn't breathing. The images of me living without my sister kept on flashing in my head. My throat went dry and I started crying hysterically.
     After a few minutes, my sister came out of the water, with the assistance of 4 men and a little boy. Turns out, she was trying to save that little boy when he was drifting away and got caught up in the waster herself.
I ran to her, tears flowing like a waterfall. I hugged her tighltly, holding on to her like she was my lifeline. My sister hugged me back. She wasn't trembling, nor was she crying.
     "Silly girl, what did you think would happen to me? God loves me too much to just let me go like that." she said, trying to calm me down. I heard those words far too many times yet only today did it seem so meaningful.
     I didn't take my eyes off my sister for a whole day. My sister and I slapped and pinched each other many times, wondering if this was all a dream and that perhaps, one of us didn't survive after all. The theory was proved to be wrong. My cheeks were all red by the end of the day. I didn't care.
     Sometimes I can't sleep... Sometimes I'm too scared to close my eyes... The scenes from that time keep on coming back, repeating themselves like a broken CD... The only difference is... I can't seem to turn them off.
     I can still remember the dark room, the frightening darkness that surrounded my and my sister's voice as she was falling into slumber:
     "Life's short, treasure it."