Post by Bailey Allison on Dec 23, 2013 23:12:56 GMT -5
This was probably the most idiotic thing he had ever done.
Well, maybe not most idiotic (there were plenty of pranks and dares that could vie for the position), but it was definitely a stupid idea. After all, the number one rule of surfing (aside from “don’t be a douche”) was “always surf with a buddy.” Hell, the number one rule of swimming was “always swim with a buddy.” And the number two rule of surfing was “don’t surf after dark.”
But Bailey had never been one to follow the rules.
Shivering, Bailey waded into the water, clutching his board. He’d been out for nearly an hour, giving his eyes plenty of time to adjust to the dark. Plus, it was nearly four in the morning, and the sky was starting to lighten just a bit. Yet despite his “precautions,” he still strained to distinguish details in the ocean ahead of him.
The wind whipped water against his chest, causing him to shudder. Maybe he should’ve gone all out and worn a wetsuit instead of just rash guards. Still, it was just a couple of waves, just enough to wash away the nerves. He’d be in and out of there in a few minutes, and there was still plenty of ambrosia left in his bag.
Gritting his teeth, Bailey started to paddle out, gradually becoming accustomed to the temperature. Already, his fear and anxiety were leaving, dissipating with each wave that washed over him. This was definitely better than throwing up on the flight the next day in a fit of nervousness. All too soon, he reached the point where the waves were beginning to break.
Bailey closed his eyes, trying to envision the water ahead of him. He could do this. After all, hadn’t he always claimed he could surf blind? And wasn’t there a professional blind surfer? This was nothing. Feeling the pull of the water behind him, Bailey opened his eyes and popped up, shooting forward, the tips of his fingers tingling as everything seemed to fall into place.
One wave down, one to go.
Pointing his board back out at sea, Bailey paddled lazily, at complete ease. The seas seemed to get a bit rougher, but that only meant the waves would be bigger and more memorable. And the more memorable, the better. After all, this would be the last time he went surfing on Fireworks Beach.
The wave came almost immediately, forcing Bailey to stand up shakily, unbalanced. Before he knew what was happening, the water swept him off his board. Instinct kicked in, forcing him to stare up, one arm cautiously braced in front of him, searching for his board and the wave.
He never saw it.
The board caught him squarely on the back of the head, covering his vision with a heavy darkness. It left his body spinning downwards, followed by a flurry of bubbles as the waves pushed it further down, returning Bailey to the place he had loved the most.
Twelve hours and two thousand seven hundred ninety-one miles later, a man slumping against a pair of crutches and a woman wringing her hands stood next to the baggage claim, their eyes searching the crowd of incoming passengers. She had a ridiculous balloon, and he wore a steady, expectant smile that never wavered.
They were both waiting for a boy who would never come.
Notes: It comes with a graphic! Click~
This was the original ending. But it never felt right…
Well, maybe not most idiotic (there were plenty of pranks and dares that could vie for the position), but it was definitely a stupid idea. After all, the number one rule of surfing (aside from “don’t be a douche”) was “always surf with a buddy.” Hell, the number one rule of swimming was “always swim with a buddy.” And the number two rule of surfing was “don’t surf after dark.”
But Bailey had never been one to follow the rules.
Shivering, Bailey waded into the water, clutching his board. He’d been out for nearly an hour, giving his eyes plenty of time to adjust to the dark. Plus, it was nearly four in the morning, and the sky was starting to lighten just a bit. Yet despite his “precautions,” he still strained to distinguish details in the ocean ahead of him.
The wind whipped water against his chest, causing him to shudder. Maybe he should’ve gone all out and worn a wetsuit instead of just rash guards. Still, it was just a couple of waves, just enough to wash away the nerves. He’d be in and out of there in a few minutes, and there was still plenty of ambrosia left in his bag.
Gritting his teeth, Bailey started to paddle out, gradually becoming accustomed to the temperature. Already, his fear and anxiety were leaving, dissipating with each wave that washed over him. This was definitely better than throwing up on the flight the next day in a fit of nervousness. All too soon, he reached the point where the waves were beginning to break.
Bailey closed his eyes, trying to envision the water ahead of him. He could do this. After all, hadn’t he always claimed he could surf blind? And wasn’t there a professional blind surfer? This was nothing. Feeling the pull of the water behind him, Bailey opened his eyes and popped up, shooting forward, the tips of his fingers tingling as everything seemed to fall into place.
One wave down, one to go.
Pointing his board back out at sea, Bailey paddled lazily, at complete ease. The seas seemed to get a bit rougher, but that only meant the waves would be bigger and more memorable. And the more memorable, the better. After all, this would be the last time he went surfing on Fireworks Beach.
The wave came almost immediately, forcing Bailey to stand up shakily, unbalanced. Before he knew what was happening, the water swept him off his board. Instinct kicked in, forcing him to stare up, one arm cautiously braced in front of him, searching for his board and the wave.
He never saw it.
The board caught him squarely on the back of the head, covering his vision with a heavy darkness. It left his body spinning downwards, followed by a flurry of bubbles as the waves pushed it further down, returning Bailey to the place he had loved the most.
Twelve hours and two thousand seven hundred ninety-one miles later, a man slumping against a pair of crutches and a woman wringing her hands stood next to the baggage claim, their eyes searching the crowd of incoming passengers. She had a ridiculous balloon, and he wore a steady, expectant smile that never wavered.
They were both waiting for a boy who would never come.
Notes: It comes with a graphic! Click~
This was the original ending. But it never felt right…
