I wipe the sweat from my brow and keep digging. The sun dramatically beats against my already burnt skin. Blisters begin to form on my toes as the beach sand rubs within my sandals.
“We’re never going to get there!” My irritating younger sister, Thea, insists.
I aggressively slam my shovel into the sand below as I snap, “Just keep digging.”
The sand becomes wet and cold beneath us. Having been at this spot for hours, we realize that China may just be a little too far. I didn’t understand this at first. Now I know. I keep digging anyway, trying not to give in to this real world. Slowly, I look up at my father. He sits by the car, beer in hand, looking at the ECONOMIST magazine. Thea and I roll our eyes simultaneously as I forget that I’m mad at her. The raucous sound of his music blears in my ears and I sigh.
“Can we take a break?” Thea begins, seemingly defeated.
“Well, can you see China?”
She rolls her eyes, “No…”
“Then there's your answer!” I say as I grasp a nonexistent bit of patience.
Starting to lose concentration, I focus on the shovel. All at once, I come back to reality. A little bit of hope surges through my heart as I hit something hard. Something mysterious is waiting below me. It has to be the other side of the world. Automatically, my shovel begins to dig faster. The shovel stops, making impact what something seriously hard.
“Ouch!” I scream when a sudden pain flows up my arm.
My sister's eyes dart to my shovel and her eyes become sympathetic. I look down as well. Scratched and broken. Great. Frustration allows my body to run all the way to the car. Grabbing onto the handle of the door my hand instantaneously burns. Right now, I don’t exactly care. Once inside, I swim in my own sweat. This car is blisteringly hot. My sister shrieks outside. She tries her best to run over to the car with her small legs, although, she doesn’t get into the car when she arrives. She simply points. Points into the near distance. I squint and realize that she's pointing to our hole. Immediately, I know. I know that our hole has been covered.
“It filled up,” she pouts.
Still, I don’t respond. Slowly, I open the door to the car and walk over to the hole, still in shock. My knees begin to shake and I lay down where the hole once was. The sand warms my skin as a shadow blocks the sun.
“How are we going to get to China now?” My sister thumbs down beside me, on the verge of tears.
“Maybe we should’ve made a sand castle,” I mutter.
My face wrinkles as I look to the children nearest to me.
“We’re never going to get there,” one whines,
“Just keep digging,” another says through gritted teeth.
I chuckle to myself, whispering, “Good luck,” feeling slightly bad for them.