I was nearly to the top. Only a few steps to go. I peeked my head over the side and overlooked the beach. The sight was admirable. I spotted my family. A wave of guilt rushed  over me. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought. I stepped up to the highest point, pushing away that thought as I examined the appealing appearance. I began to climb back down. Quickly so my parents wouldn’t suspect anything. Suddenly I stopped. I couldn’t move.

 

A trip to the jersey shore was a satisfying way to start off summer vacation. I stared at the sign that read “Welcome to Brigantine New Jersey” propped upon a palm tree spitting out coconuts every once in awhile, imbedded into what seemed like the softest, smoothest sand. There were no large rocks or shells to poke into your feet. It was perfect. I could hear the massive waves pounding and crashing onto the shore. As I breathed in the fresh air, the aroma of salty sea water lingering in the dry air, warmed by the scorching hot rays of the sun, filled my nose. The cloudless light blue sky crowded over the vast ocean, as well as the lifeguard sitting in the white chair towering over me. Umbrellas and seats were scattered along the shoreline and the sky was swarming with screaming, squawking seagulls slowly swooping down from the sunny sky determined to catch their unsuspecting prey.

My family and I checked into the hotel and unpacked.

Through the beautiful view from our window I could hear children playing and building sandcastles and laughing and splashing in the water and throwing sand up in the air leaving everyone around covered in little crushed up rocks. A grin on my face spread from ear to ear.

We spent that day relaxing on the beach. Well at least my family did.

Sitting on a beach chair, I squinted my burning eyes as the sweltering sun peeked through one puffy white cloud, over the ocean that kept crashing onto the light sand, making it a little bit darker. It was a nice day. A little bit hot though.

Off to my right I spotted a HUGE cliff slightly over the water. I scrunched up my eyes focusing more, and I noticed people were on it. I wanted to climb it. But I already knew that my parents would never let me. I asked them anyways. There still could be the tiniest chance.

“Mom?” I said

“Yes?”  my mom replied

“Do you see that big cliff up there?” I asked “With some people on it.”

“If you asking to climb it then the answer is no. Its way too dangerous,” She said.

I sighed, kicking up sand as I trudged away.

I didn’t know then that by the end of the day I would have climbed that cliff until the idea swarmed through my head a few minutes later.

I sneaked away when my parents were distracted.

I soon reached the cliff. It was big. Really big. But I didn’t see the big deal. It didn’t seem that dangerous. I took one step. Then another. I started my climbing up the massive rock. With each step the universe grew bigger. I was only a couple minutes later when I was almost to the top. I have never done anything like this before. It was exciting. But also scary.

I peered over the rugged rock, examining the exquisite sea, trying to eat the sandy beach further and further, and the warm golden sand, flying in the air when a gust of wind blasts over the beach. I sat there enjoying the admirable scenery, keeping in mind not to stay up there too long so my family doesn’t suspect anything. I started to climb down.

But I couldn’t move.

My foot was stuck. “No!” I quietly yelled to myself. This can’t be happening, I thought. My mom would kill me if she found out I was up here. I wiggled my foot around as it scratched up against the rigid cliff. My heart sped up. Faster and faster. My stomach clenched, not knowing what to do. After about a minute of struggling, I finally managed to squeeze my foot out of the little hole. I was so relieved. I climbed down hoping that my parents still thought I was laying In the sand right behind them. I was glad I climbed that cliff. It gave me a sense of rebellion and freedom. And it was a memorable experience. My parents never noticed I was gone and this was a moment that I would look back at later on in life.