Personal Narrative: A Vacation In Hawaii
I inhaled deeply, and the sharp scent of salt infiltrated my nostrils. The water lay before me, clear as crystal. The waves crashes onto the smooth sand, and the white foam rushed to my bare feet, as the sun beat on on the blue water. The glittering sea reflected in my eyes, and a smile spread across my face. This was paradise. This was Hawaii. Whats a vacation without some adventure? Without some fun and some risk? Without going beyond your boundaries and trying something new? That’s what a vacation is meant for. On the shore at Maui Hawaii, I stood taking in the magnificent view-hypnotized by the scene, my mind was racing. There were endless possibilities of things that I could do, paddle boarding, kite surfing, parasailing, you name it,
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Spewing water and coughing all over the place, I frivolously looked back and forth from the shore, to the small figure drifting in the ocean behind me. Still unable to process what was happening, my cowardness took the best of me. Something that I still regret today. I rushed to the shore as fast as I could dragging the now burdensome board behind me.
Sweating profusely, I collapsed onto the gold sand, weak from guilt that I hadn’t gone back to help my sister. Biting my nails and unable to look at what was happening around me, I closed my eyes and hung my head. I knew that someone had gone to help her, my mother’s shrill tone communicated that to me. But that person should have been me. I was ashamed that my pride had taken the best of me, ashamed that I made the wrong decision, that I didn’t think it through. Ashamed that I had become weak under pressure and weak when it mattered the most.
As she made it back to shore, sputtering water out of her mouth as she tried to talk, I couldn’t even look her in the eye. Everyone knew that my sister would have been much more safer, if I had just gone to help her. But I froze under the spotlight. I didn’t have the skills or abilities to help her, and I felt incompetent. So worthless and humiliated at the
Spewing water and coughing all over the place, I frivolously looked back and forth from the shore, to the small figure drifting in the ocean behind me. Still unable to process what was happening, my cowardness took the best of me. Something that I still regret today. I rushed to the shore as fast as I could dragging the now burdensome board behind me.
Sweating profusely, I collapsed onto the gold sand, weak from guilt that I hadn’t gone back to help my sister. Biting my nails and unable to look at what was happening around me, I closed my eyes and hung my head. I knew that someone had gone to help her, my mother’s shrill tone communicated that to me. But that person should have been me. I was ashamed that my pride had taken the best of me, ashamed that I made the wrong decision, that I didn’t think it through. Ashamed that I had become weak under pressure and weak when it mattered the most.
As she made it back to shore, sputtering water out of her mouth as she tried to talk, I couldn’t even look her in the eye. Everyone knew that my sister would have been much more safer, if I had just gone to help her. But I froze under the spotlight. I didn’t have the skills or abilities to help her, and I felt incompetent. So worthless and humiliated at the