Personal Narrative: Blue Skiing

Fear saturated my very being, with the doctors’ orders echoing in my head, tainting my thoughts for the worse as my eyes reinforced my fear. The tumultuous waves resembled the arm of a violinist, vigorously delivering a musical piece with precision and aggression while still maintaining the tragically beautiful sound the music was predestined to make. The ominous, gray sky was a deep, foreboding bass conjuring deep primal fears. The jet-ski rocked in the shore as it felt the weight of my brother, my sister and myself hopping on and my mind weighed heavy with the possible scenarios that ran through my head, oblivious to the excitement that saturated the air. “Don’t be a wuss,” was the primary thought iterating through my head at the time
My sister and I, confident in our brother’s competence to control the jet-ski gave the green light on going full force into the obscenely turbulent deep waters, the area in which we were instructed by the instructor to not head to. At first, the mighty jet-ski cut through the choppy waters with great vigor that exemplified its magisterial personality. It pierced the choppy waters with ease only leaving behind white foam, residue of its power. Yet the ocean ultimately conjured a wave so massive and a gust with such force that the once powerful, commanding jet-ski was brought to its knees as it flipped over in blind obedience to the strength of the waves. After emerging from the water, we stuck together as we waited patiently for the lifeguards to come to our rescue. My toe was unaffected and my body relished in the cold, refreshing waters of the Atlantic as we were at the mercy of the winds and water, relying only on the buoyancy of our life jackets. The waves were big enough to submerge us often for a few seconds before spitting us out as if it was due to the unpleasant taste of the life jacket. I cracked jokes, with most of them being compromised of puns I made on the spot to describe our situation to ease the tension. We all laughed at how my sister had lost her slipper thanks to the jet-ski flipping over and tried our best to not have the
Even the instructors, masters of the water, had difficulty reaching us and coming to our rescue. Eventually, the speed boat came to our rescue and we all slowly climbed into the boat. Small talk was exchanged between the instructor and my siblings, each remarking on the power of the waves and how terrible the conditions were for jet-skiing. I remained silent, however, with only one thought residing in my mind: I was