She moved through the water in a way few could.
She’d always been a natural. Some said she was born on a surfboard.
She was surrounded by blue water and sea foam, not another person in sight.
The secluded beach was her dream, all the best places were usually crowded. The tourists moving in on her spots didn’t help.
But she heard a rumor that there was a nice, remote spot well away from all the gawkers. It was a bit of a drive, hours from her usual haunts. You couldn’t even get to it by road.
She hiked a half mile through the forest with her board and her pack, the trees opening to the small paradise.
She couldn’t believe it. It was perfect. The forest gave way to a small section of beach and there was no one in sight.
She dropped her pack on the sand and raced into the coming surf. She caught a few waves. It was magical, not having to wait for anyone.
She paddled in and gathered some driftwood for a little fire. She lighted it using some crumbled newspaper from her backpack.
Within a few minutes, she had a nice little blaze going. She cooks eggs for a late breakfast with some bread toasted over the open fire.
She ate carefully, trying not to get sand in her food. For a second she felt someone staring at her. She breathed a sigh of relief when a little deer walked out.
“Awww come here,” she said, holding up a bit of food.
The little animal approached for a few steps before turning back into the forest.
“Figures,” she said to no one in particular.
She cleaned up, grabbed her board and jogged back into the water. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind she could hear her mom, you have to wait a half hour before going in the water.
She figured her mom would make an exception if she saw this though.
She spent another hour riding waves, relishing her perfect little oasis.
The sun was in her hair and she couldn’t imagine a better day when something nudged her foot.
Her mind went to the same place all surfers went, Shark.
She looked around trying to see the tell-tale dark shape in the water.
There was nothing but she felt the bump again.
Her first reaction was to pull her foot from the water, but she couldn’t. It was as though something was holding her foot under. She grabbed her leg with both hands, pulling up as hard as she could.
It was no use. She looked around for help, but of course, the beach was deserted, with only her bag on shore.
Then her leg was pulled down. Hard. Hard enough to pull her and the surfboard a few inches under water. Next thing she knew she was ripped off the board. She screamed and plunged under the water a few times before she was dragged under.
The girl thrashed under the waves. The salt water stinging her eyes. She feared the leash that kept her tethered to the board was caught on something. She felt it up and down and it was free from obstruction.
Now the panic was setting in.
No matter how hard she struggled she couldn’t reach the surface. She spun in the water looking for what might be holding her down.
But she saw nothing.
Finally, she gave in, expelling the last of her air. She felt a strange peace. This was it she thought.
Just as she closed her eyes, whatever was holding her down let go and she popped to the surface.
Gasping for air, she clutched the board and desperately made her way to shore.
She nearly kissed the wet sand when she made it back. She crawled back to her small campsite. Without really knowing why, she burst into tears. The water that was once her second home crashed against the shore mocking her.
She thought about just going back but she was too freaked out to drive. It wouldn’t be any good if she survived that just to die in a car accident.
After a while she calmed down, and reasoned it was just some kind of strange undertow. Some places had crazy currents and the more she thought about it the more she figured that’s what it was.
Besides, she wasn’t going in the water again, so she was safe enough.
She spent the rest of the day tanning on the beach and reading before cooking a nice meal over the smoldering little fire she maintained all day. There was a little noise in the woods, causing her to jump, but it was just her little deer friend from earlier.
He stayed a moment and then bounded back into the woods.
Soon the sun went down. She climbed into her tent hoping to forget the day and passed out.
Until sometime after midnight when she heard something outside her tent. It was faint but she could tell something was definitely moving on the other side of the nylon sheet.
It sounded like giggling?
She stayed perfectly still, with her sleeping bag drawn up to her mouth.
Suddenly, something poked the tent.
She screamed.
It happened again and again.
More giggling and poking the tent.
Then she heard the zipper jiggle. She desperately grabbed it to keep it shut. The thing outside finally gave up. She felt it kick sand at the door and finally it went quiet.
She dared not move a muscle till it was light out.
Finally, the sun lit up the tent. She unzipped it and looked around in horror.
There were footprints coming from the water and around her tent, circling around it several times, and then going back to the water.
She ran back through the woods, leaving everything. Even her surfboard.
Her eyes lit up when she saw her jeep.
But the excitement didn’t last long. The jeep’s tires had been slashed.
To make it worse there was a note on the windshield.
She gasped when she opened it, as it read.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
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I was hopeful for this surfer.
Creepy wet things!