Creative Writing: Blue Water

The waters were calm. Quiet.

I sat in my boat, soaking up the rays of the late August sun. I needed this boat ride, it 's been pretty stressful at work. Listening to the sounds of birds, the crashing of waves, and the smell of dew really brings a serene aesthetic.

I felt like I was spinning slowly. My eyes were closed, and I just let my mind wander. The warm breeze pulled me in for a hug, and I could feel the gusts of wind travel its way into my clothes. I snapped out of my trance, and I stood up to observe my surroundings.

I was surrounded by blue water, such a deep blue that I couldn 't see what was under me. The sky was getting darker, and my eyes gazed upon a sunset made for movie posters. The pinks, purples, and oranges highlighted …show more content…
I didn 't know what to do, I just sat kneeling at the decks edge, hands gripping the railings so tight my knuckles turned white. Then , my ears were greeted with the harsh sound of rusted metal moving. I glanced up, and to my horror the diver was looking down directly at me. I couldn 't see any signs of a face, for the diver was wearing the huge, rusted, dirty helmet. My eyes were transfixed to the ghastly giant, alas, my ears met with the sound of rusted metal again. I closed my eyes tight, letting the horrible sound be my partner for a dance. The metal kept on screeching, and I was horrified to feel a cold, metal hand scoop my body away from the safe haven. I was seated on the divers palm, and while he was bringing me farther and farther away from my boat, I tossed and turned. The small puddles of water on his hands were dampening my clothes. I turned away from him to see how far up I was. The boat looked like a little insect on a huge blue table from where I was. The warm summer air grew cold, and I was shivering uncontrollably. The wind was blowing my hair back, the feathery locks brushing my cold shoulders. I turned toward the diver. I felt like I was in a zoo, encased in an exhibit. I could feel the diver 's eyes looking at me, and he might not even have a pair. My short, hurried breathes were starting to rise, but getting abruptly stopped at my throat. I felt like I was about to faint. Suddenly, I was gently placed on the diver 's head, facing the purple night sky. I was placed on the center of his helmet, the coarse metal scratching my legs. Then, my ears were greeted with a single word from a rough, scratchy, almost animalistic