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I sit here now, at my old oak desk, looking at the old crumpled newspaper picture. In it I see a fish which now swims along the seabed terrorising other species. To be honest, all I can do is sit now and look at this fish. I catch a glimpse, in a picture frame of my son, of a distorted face with cords of saliva hanging within the thin lips and a chin which multiplied into several more chins. The fish was the thing that changed everything I have today. Where would I be now without it? I don't know. But the memory still haunts me even to this day; many questions cloud my head. Today, exactly fifty years ago, was the day which corrupted everything I have. I take another look at the picture frame, feel the memory snatch my soul, and with a tear running down my cheek, I was gone...
...Beneath the serene sun's flares sat and lay thousands of sun kissed people. It was a scene that overwhelmed the senses: palms full of life and sienna coloured people surfed as the waves were gently drenching the sand. The ovine clouds hid from view, letting the piercing rays from the sun burn our skins crisp. The sand skimmed passed every toe as we came to our reserved spot on the populated beach.
My son, who sat there eating in a lupine manner, gazed upon the glistening sea, whereas my beautiful daughter, with her golden stranded hair, dove into the sapphire water and swam back and forth whilst all the boys watched her like a lion on its prey. Sitting with pride, the lifeguard watched with no intention of going into the sun rays in his blood-red and hinted blue uniform.
Suddenly, clouds grouped above our heads and the breeze became a slight bit colder. The sky became greyer then the grey wolf, but it still was over thirty degrees and no person left their expensive reserved spots.
There was only word for what happened next: pandemonium.
At exactly the most popular time of day, when the beach had no sand visible, the radio shrieked out a deafening frequency which stunned all people nearby. Then, with no warning, the once-relaxed lifeguard shouted through the gainsboro coloured speaker, "Everyone please remain calm and leave the water immediately!" He repeated himself at least another two times when the one colour you don't want to witness in water radiated through. People screamed.
I ran towards the sea; my daughter was far from shore. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like the coldness when you leave your house into the harsh winter wind. Then I felt an abnormal warmth in the water, or what I thought was water at that time. I was there in the powerful snatching waves with no emotion or thoughts going through my head. I started to see double of everything and then everything went blurry and finally black...
We were on the sandy shore. All I saw was blue and red flashing lights and then, to my relief, my daughter shouting, but I could not hear her; I reached for her hands but my arms did not move; I shouted, screamed for her, but my mouth did not open.
I saw darkness...
...Looking back at it, I thought I was going to the next stage of life, the next chapter, possibly meeting my grandparents for the first time or my best friend during my childhood. But a sudden pain and familiar voice brought me up. I was in a hospital and saw all their beautiful faces.
"Dad, dinner's ready!" My wheel got stuck on the table as I came away from the desk; I put the picture back in its rightful place on the table and adjusted the wheel. I turned around and caught a glimpse of a shoe box with only one shoe in it. I rode over to the chairlift and made my way downstairs for dinner, leaving the memories and all the left-sided shoes for the what was going to be my last time.