Awaiting the Horizon

This is the narrative I wrote for English class. It's pretty rushed but it came out good, read it if you'd like:



Nothing but a shade of dark blue stretched for tens of thousands of miles. I stared ahead as the small canoe slowly floated into a part of the ocean no different than the rest. The tedious view relaxed the mind and eyes and staying awake was almost impossible. My eyes started to droop as I fought back the urge to sleep and slightly stood up to stretch. The boat shook a little, making me sit back again, fearing I might flip over into the awaiting water beneath me.
I had been stranded here for hours unknown. I was alone with no form of communication. My forgetfulness had brought me to this situation, for I had no map with me either. The little I had was my iPod and a few pieces of bread and some water. None of these would help me reach civilization.
The iPod in my bag had little charge left but I thought that now was as good a time as any to listen to it. Like the way the boat drifted off the harbor, my mind left the thoughts I was previously wrapped up in. The music calmed me more than the constant blueness of the combined sky and ocean. I laid down and shut my eyes as the lyrics shrouded my thoughts.
I woke up to the slow sound of the water being pushed away by the floating canoe. The iPod had died and it was all silent as the sun and the horizon met in a glorious ritual. The sky turned from blue to purple to gray as the sun departed to the west, vacating the sky for the moon to take its place. The subtle scent of the ocean in the day immediately changed once the night flooded the sky. The joyful sound of the seagulls were no longer heard, but replaced with only the leisurely sound of water. I couldn’t help but stress over the thought of being in the middle of nowhere at night. Blood pumped through my body where to the point where I could actually feel the fluids.
“How’s this going to end?” I thought to myself, along with other fear inducing things. “Death was a promise, but my life was a lie. Maybe I could fall into the ocean, my eyes to the sky.” I crossed out this thought when I realized how I would actually struggle to save myself once beneath the mystic water.
I breathed in and out a couple times and, noticing I had actually stood up, sat back down. I got some bread out and nibbled on it for a while to calm me down. Then I bit a little piece off and the taste of stale bread met my taste buds. I trembled a little at the bitter tasted and quickly drank a few sips of water, barely ridding my tongue of the vile taste.
My nerves were calmer than before but still cautious. I thought of the different methods of escaping this trapped feeling, suicide being the overpowering one. I contemplated more into that one and realized the only way was to deprive myself of food and water or to drown, neither being a very pleasant idea.
An emotional, and at the same time, mental, struggle overcame me. I didn’t know what to do. Tears covered my face and evil thoughts covered my mind. Life I hadn’t remembered living passed through my eyes. I opened my eyes, now fierce with knowledge. The one piece of the puzzle to save myself from this was finally found. I stood up, without fear now. I looked at the repetitive substance I was surrounded by: water. Then I looked up at the sky, brightly lit by the glowing moon. I then observed the insides of my eyelids as I shut my eyes and held my breath. I took one plunge and for an instant all was still. The silence of night was even quieter, all that filled my ear was the stinging sound that happened when there was nothing else heard. A rush of air caressed my face and then my body was enveloped by an indescribable freezing sensation. I quivered in the freezing water and for one last time, opened my eyes.
The endless darkness made way to a lighted ceiling. The still silence made way to hurrying cars outside and the sound of the TV blaring in the other room. My body was frozen for an uncountable moment and a sudden twitch in my arm made me mobile. I sat up, almost gasping for air. Sweat poured down my body and my white undershirt was drenched. I stood up and went to the bathroom where I looked in the mirror. My face was red and beaded with sweat. I washed my face a couple times and shivered as the cold water met my burning skin. I remembered my dream and chuckled at how intense it was. My mom walked by, “Good morning,” she said to me, smiling. I responded to the merry words and followed her over to the kitchen to find a table surrounded with my cousins and family, watching TV and talking. They all greeted me and I smiled back at them all and sat down. The freshly baked pancakes took my mind off of the tense night I had. Though as the day went by, I couldn’t help but think of how detailed the dream really was and why I had seen it in the way that I did. I decided not to worry myself over such a small thing and went to bed the next night, smiling and awaiting my next nocturnal adventures.