Creative Writing †Whangamata Beach Essay

As I gaze over my photo album I pause on a particular photo. It’s dark but I can just make out the shadowy figures posing in the background, the murky night enclosing itself around them. Brightly coloured flames shoot up from the wood in front of them; I can still feel that warmth of the fire. I search my mind trying to place the exact details of that night only they blur and condense until there are only specs of a memory. That photo always brings me back to one place, Whangamata. Looking up to the sky, glimmering with brightly illuminated stars I breathe in only to have my lungs become coated with the thick sea salt that travels up the sandy banks of the beach every time a wave begins to crash down on the shore. I reach for my camera which has been swallowed up by the surrounding sand. Brushing it off I focus it on everyone’s shadowy faces. They all gather around, they huddle to try fit into the screen of the camera. Taking the photo I hear the shutter click, lying back I close my eyes. The heat of the blazing fire penetrates my skin as I sink into the sand. I think about all the complications I’ll have when I get back to Auckland. As I sigh, I position my head on a piece of drift wood. Aiming my stare towards my friends I see them singing and dancing around the fire. Lazily I smile at them when they begin to call my name. ‘You’re no fun!’ Erin shouts as I stick my tongue out at her in mock response. After a while more people begin to join me beside the fire, their bodies tired from the erratic movement of tonight’s adventures. Rose begins to hush everyone and as it quietens a clearer noise is audible. Laughter and shouting from the distance booms and echoes around us. Everyone turns to give each other puzzled looks. This is our spot, how could anyone find us here? I squint trying to make out who they are but the blackness of midnight is too dark and hazy. Hidden from my eyesight for a while, shadowy silhouettes eventually emerge from the dimness behind the fire. A group of people were making their way towards us, shouting. One by one our group stood up, I was the last to stand but the first to approach them. Erin ran to catch up with me, linking her arm through mine when she reaches me. Her icy skin gives me goose bumps; I rub my arms to stay warm. Thunder rumbles in the distance as the cool offshore breeze begins to whip my hair lightly backwards and forwards. When we reach the intruders I speak, ‘I’m Kayleigh, this is Erin and they’re our friends’ I motioned towards everybody standing around the fire. The group standing before me smiled. ‘Can we sit with you for a while; we’ve been walking for hours’ the boy closest to me asks huskily. I nod in re ply. Instead of