My Watery Grave
The water that had claimed my husband’s life was now claiming my daughters. My hand angerly striked the surface of the water, the sting of the spray splintering my face. The people on the beach had finally realized that something was terribley wrong and called the coast gaurd. Groups of people were out searching for my Mariel. Searching for the tiny body that carried such a big soul and enormous dreams. Tears burned my cheeks as I began to crawl out of the ocean. I layed on the sand, hearing the head coast gaurd standing above me. Questions were being asked, but I had no anwsers. My baby was gone. Jake was gone.
“Oh, Mariel,” I whispered into the sand. My hand sifted through the grains of the white sand. Mariel wasn’t coming back, just like Jake didn’t come back. It wasn’t suppose to happen this way. We were suppose to be a family. But I was the only one left. I lifted my head up to look at the water, the grave of my family. Like a zombie, I stood and walked into the ocean. It would now be my grave, too.