Personal Narrative: Refugee Beach

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Pages: 3

It was December, 2012 The air chilling enough to see and the fog thick enough to touch. I must have been eleven years old, young, stupid, gullible, the whole nine yards. We arrive at bass lake near the California, and Nevada border. We set camp by the lake, You can hear the quiet tickle of the water brushing the sand and receding back, over and over like clockwork. The sun was peering through the clouds, it appeared as if rays of heaven were touching the earth.
This was going to be my first time doing real back breaking camping; I always loved the idea of going bare wild and becoming one with the outside. For a week we as in Me, My dad, My best friend Hunter, and his dad. We became friends a while back and our fathers then became good friends through
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My dad says, “Maybe it will come back to shore soon?” I didn't think so, the water was still cold, it could take a few days to find its way back to shore. Now keeping in mind fishing was our only source of food other than a bit we brought to last us a day or so, we seemed screwed. Todd, “Hunter's dad” proposed we make a boat. “Just strong enough to get one of us out to the boat and paddle it back. I nominate myself out of excitement but sadly i'm quickly turned down by my dad who said “It's too dangerous!” Yeah whatever I think to this day. Anyways they send us back to gather supplies for the makeshift boat things like reeds, big branches etc. On our third run we hear something move. “What the heck was that?” we whisper. We see the end of something big and hairy and we do not stick around to find out what is. Me and hunter dash back to camp running faster than we ever have, hearts pounding, blood rushing. I can feel my head pulsing by the time we get back. When we do we try to explain what we saw but all that comes out is babbles and jiberish. Before we can come to our senses we hear more rustling. “It followed us” we screamed. What came out of those