Writing Class

Hey blog readers! Today, in class, I had to write a short narrative essay while looking at a picture. I would like to share my story with you and see what you guys think of it. Let me know your opinions!!

The Lighthouse

Standing on the dock, I smelled the salty water and felt the droplets of water on my face and bare arms. The dock was slippery and wobbly, but being an adventurous person, I stood very close to the edge of the dock. A sudden wave crashed against the dock, making the boats move in their place. If the boats hadn't been tied up, they would have been long gone by now. Through the wave, I tried to keep my eyes on the horizon, trying to make out the impressions in the clouds, wondering what they were trying to tell me. I knew I was here for a reason, a purpose. But what was it?

Seagulls cried in the air, flapping their wings, trying to be stronger than the wind. How was it that they kept on staying in the same place? Why not fly to a calmer place? I wondered what the birds felt, what was on their minds.

I tasted the air, the salty, cold air. I could feel a storm coming in. It will probably be here in a few hours. 

The lighthouse! It was calling to me. Drawing me near to it. What if..? No. I couldn't swim out there. The water was too rough, the wind too strong. I would be swept away in an instant. 

Another sudden wave crashes against the dock, almost knocking me over. I was drenched. I glanced at the lighthouse, but it was drowned in the wave. I just had to get over to it. But how!? I glanced at the boats. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. Running to the last boat, I jump in and untie the rope from the dock. It’s hard to control it, but I fight against the water any ways. As soon as I get to the lighthouse, I get out of the boat and make sure that I tie the rope securely. I go around, looking for the door. I turn the knob, hoping, praying that it’s not locked. To my joy, the door opens easily and I walk into the lighthouse. Outside, I can hear the howling wind and the water crashing against the wall of the lighthouse. The air inside is stuffy and moldy, but I get used to it right away. I find the stairs rather quickly and go up to a small room. It’s filled with light. A fuzzy light that warms up my insides. The light itself isn't warm, but it has a certain glow to it that makes everything much more cheerful. In a corner, I see a table with a book on it. I go over and look to see what kind of book it is. I don’t find a title, so upon opening it up, I see a familiar handwriting. I read the first page and go on to the second, realizing that this is a book full of poems. In an instant, a flashback takes me back to a few years ago. I can see my father, writing at his desk. In the image, I watch myself go over to him and climb up on his lap, asking in a quiet voice what he is writing. He explains to me that this is a poem book – a blank book that people write poems in. 

With tears in my eyes, I realize that it’s my father’s poem book. No wonder the handwriting is familiar. It’s my father’s. Another realization hits me hard in the face. Now I know how he died. He was a lighthouse keeper. And now it is my destiny, my purpose to help people keep away from the rocks. It is my job to keep them alive. 

With a smile on my face, I go back down and out into the freezing cold. It’s getting dark and it’s time for me to go home. Mother will be waiting for my safe return. She will be glad to hear of my decision to become a lighthouse keeper. It is after all, my destiny.