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Stranded
I looked up… only to see the blazing sun. I dusted the coarse sand off my skin and flung my body to the side. A sizable amount of seawater escaped from my chest and onto the beach beneath me. I could feel the harsh sunburn running across my dampened cheeks.
“Damnit,” A couple of coughs chased my liquidus vomit. At that moment, I could feel how weak my body had become. I was barely able to lift myself off the sand, much less begin walking. So I slept. For what felt like days but must’ve only accounted for a couple of hours. They should’ve killed me, I thought, letting my soul sink into the warm sand.
Yet they didn’t. Now I was tied to an even worse fate, living with the consequences of my not-so-favorable actions. You see, before I got into all this trouble, I was somewhat of a con-artist. Living the high life, not caring what did or didn't happen to me. But now I was stranded in the middle of nowhere. With no wallet, keys, or identity. I was nothing, for the first time in forever. And god, did it feel good.
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I'm a student from Arrowhead Highschool and wrote this short story during one of our "quickwrite" sessions