I am going to choose a sentence from the book and continue writing a nonfiction piece from my life.
"...the actuality of what had happened- of what was still happening-begin to sink in with paralyzing force..." The woman continued calling out for help as my dad ran to help save the man with her. She was in the ocean, far out, holding onto a man who could not hold himself up. We were at Grand Cayman in the Caribbean for our summer vacation. We had gone out to a beach known as the "Graveyard Beach", because it was on a graveyard. Earlier, I hadn't known it would literally serve as graveyard. My dad pulled the helpless man out of the water, onto the shore. There were white bubbles coming from his mouth. He was unconscious. The woman who had been with him had tears streaming down her face. Meanwhile, my mom ran to local houses, trying to find someone who could call for help (as we did not have service at the beach). Every door she went to was empty, until finally, after knocking at the gray-blue door to an old looking house, three college-aged men appeared, and ran after my mom to the scene of the foaming man. The man was now blue, and foaming more than ever. The woman was pacing around, still crying uncontrollably. "It will be alright," said my mom to the woman, patting her on the back. "I'm sure he will be ok. The police are almost here." She said. All I could do at the moment was breathe heavily and cry from the overwhelming scene. I didn't even know the man, but in the moment, I felt connected to him. Knowing that this man might die in a few seconds devastated me. This man did not deserve to die, and this woman did not deserve to suffer like this. I could only imagine how the woman felt. If I, a stranger, felt completely devastated by the scene, how could the woman who knew him personally, feel by such a disturbing image. Just then, the ambulance pulled up and a stretcher was brought down to the man. He was lifted on the stretcher, just barely breathing, and taken to the hospital. I would never see the man again, nor figure out if he survived or not. But, I will always remember the scene on Graveyard beach.
Wow. That was incredibly descriptive, detailed, and startling. It seems like a very personal story to have shared which makes it all the more touching. The way you compared your feelings to the woman’s feelings gave the story even more depth. The one suggestion I would have is to maybe be a little more clear about why you called it ‘Graveyard Beach’.
ReplyDeleteYour details were amazing! As sad as the the true story was, your descriptions were so well placed that I could completely imagine and feel like I was in this scene even though I wasn't. I wonder how much more worse Krakauer would feel, losing so many people he's known for a just a few days. The title "Graveyard Beach" confused me a lot before I started reading your post, It made a bit more sense to me later on. I suggest you should emphasize more on what you mean by "Graveyard Beach."
ReplyDeleteI love your nonfiction story! It's very descriptive and it makes me feel bad for the man, as if I was there. I now feel terrible for Krakauer because he had to see this so often within his weeks and they actually died. I think in a way, you're similar to Krakauer because he barely knew his teammates yet had to see them die/almost die, and it's devastating.
ReplyDeleteWhat an intense moment. I like your line, "I didn't even know the man, but in the moment, I felt connected to him." Seeing death or near death can make us feel vulnerable and you convey that in your story.
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