Prompt: Write about a moment after which you were different.

The sand at Fort Worden would mold to your feet as you walked past people and their dogs excitedly leaping over those enveloped in the sand. I remember sliding down the sand dunes creating an almost volcanic eruption with my friends as we created a never ending pile of sand at the base of a log turned seat to those lounging along the sand wall. We would be laughing and giggling at our stumbling (almost drunk) as we’d try to scale the wall again in an effort for height and stunned clarity of our playground beneath us. We felt like we owned the world, the water, and the sand,  our never ending play set. The nearby store carried the popsicle’s we’d hurry to finish before it turned to a sticky mess between our finger tips. The nearby bunkers is where our rebellious consequences took place, becoming our canvas for spray painted smiley faces. We’d run up the stairs to the top of the bunkers and dangle our feet over the edge. We’d take turn taking pictures  as the wind bubbled our shirts up like balloons, almost carrying our light tween bodies to the sky. In the summertime the sun would take us across the old splintered maritime center dock and bring us to it’s railings. We would peer over the side in wonder of the oceans depths below us. The idea of jumping off like a bird from it’s perch kept me at a stand still. While my friend’s climbed over the side and swayed their feet above the water I stood landlocked in my own fear. To take the plunge or to stare at my fears until the water would come for me and swallow me whole. Maybe it was a month later, or even weeks, but eventually I let my fear take hold and I leaped over the edge and let the water consume me. I hit the water like a slap in the face and plunged underneath it’s depth in finality and childlike ending. This was it. My childhood had come to an ending.