I watched him from the windowseat.

He came out the back screen door, not shutting it quietly like he normally did, but slamming it shut with a quiet fury.

Even from a distance, I could tell that something bad had happened.

Especially when he passed the orange tree and walked into the surf.

He didn't stop after the water hit his ankles, his knees, or his torso. He started to swim out into the ocean, the blue expanse that I had just taken a picture of yesterday.

Something wasn't right here.

I ran outside, past the orange tree, and to the edge of the waters, more turbulent than they had been yesterday.

"Stop!" I screamed, but he kept going like he hadn't heard.

He was at least 100 yards out by now, and I kept screaming at him to come back, but his swimming became even stronger as he battled the waves with a fierce energy.

There was only one thing to do...

I ripped off my flip-flops and jumped in to the water, chasing after him. Hopefully, the lifeguard training would help, because I could tell there was no way he was coming back.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Click to View Author Guidance

Not much to say. This isn't autobiographical, by the way! My mother, thank God, doesn't have cancer... Just a thought I had about how difficult it would be if someone I loved was seriously ill...

updated Jan 7 '09 by OrangeOreos