Tyler shrieks with excitement. His smile is so large, I can see the back of his throat, pink and convulsing. His uvula bounces as he releases another guttural, inhumanly yelp. Another wave comes, bigger than the last, crashing upon my back as I stand between the wave and my 3-year-old cousin. The frothy water sprays over my head and plunks onto Tyler’s small head. He waves his arms, smiling to reveal his red red gums. I smile at him and open my mouth to-
A huge wave attacks me. Far bigger than expected, it shoves me to the ground. The pleasant water and friendly waves become my enemy, as I kick and flail. I try to feel the sand beneath my feet, to launch off of to grasp a breath of air, but I feel no gritty, ridged substance there. The lack of solid ground takes me by surprise, and I fall forward, nothing in my way to stop my perpetual front flip as the waves push me further down under.
A hand meets mine, but I shake it off, pushing and kicking to the surface. Suddenly, I remember Tyler. He’s three! He can’t swim! In a panic, I open my eyes and mouth, searching wildly for Tyler, my Ty, my mother’s favorite nephew, my aunt’s baby. I change direction, heading to the bottom of the wave, where I last felt those tiny fingers seize my hand, fighting for his life. Bubbles escape my lips, and I’m asphyxiating now, because Tyler is somewhere down there, and he needs help because he’s only 3 and why can’t I feel the ground. With my eyes open, I can see sandy, murky water, but nothing else. My eyes sting, and I squeeze them shut.
Another wave crashes into me. My spine throbs, and I’m somersaulting away, away from Tyler who’s only three. The waves are great and formidable, and sends me spiraling forward until I collapse-
A tree? My head rams into a branch, and the salt water invades the wound on my forehead. I cling onto the branch, hoisting myself higher and higher, climbing the tree as much as possible in the push of the waves, until I feel-
Air. Precious air. I push and pull and climb and-
Wowza. My first gulp of air takes me by surprise, because the wind is howling and knocks my head back in another person. I’m crying and shaking, but I survey what I can see, what with my blood streaming into my eyes, and see only the grey sky and several trees dotting the raging water below the tree. The tree is trembling in the wind, and I hang onto it desperately, but I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I saved only myself.
I jump off the tree, into the turning waters, which I see are higher than the houses around the tree. My hands scrape against the bark I was clutching, and turn my hands into a bloody, shredded mess, but I can hardly feel it, having collided with an enormous rock at the base of the tree. My head bounces against the rock, but even though my head is spinning, I know my arm took the brunt of the impact. I raise my arm, and my shoulder pops back into place. I feel a splitting pain in my lower arm, which is definitely broken.
I paddle as best I can, keeping my head high above tossing and turning waves, and look around. I know I could never forgive myself without trying to save Tyler. He’s only three. He’s only three!
I start crying, and try to keep swimming, but I know I’m far, far away from Tyler now, and the tsunami has taken the rest of my family. I throw myself on the rock, sobbing, and the people in the tree pull me back up. I scream and fight, but I screwed up my leg in the jump, too, and I can’t move it. I fall unconscious.
Wow. This is very dramatic indeed. The use of detail is exceptional, and you manage to maintain the suspense and sense of danger throughout the entire scene. Well done.