The sand sprayed everywhere as I ran. The beach was the only place I knew where to go. For me, the beach had always been a place of refuge and of happy memories. Now that I had run away, I had to find somewhere safe. I could never go back.
I quickly scanned the beach for people. I couldn’t be found by anyone who would send me back home. A line of beach boxes caught my eye; their vibrant colours were cheery against the darkening skies. I scrambled across the sand dunes over to the boxes, hoping with my whole heart that one of them might be open. I pushed against the door of the closest one, it was locked. I tried the next three and the answer was the same. I tried the fourth one down. The vivid blue and yellow colouring matched the beach setting perfectly. I tugged desperately on the lock, it swung open. I gasped quietly to myself, luck was on my side.
I crept inside the beach house, trying not to trip over beach towels and surfboards. The interior of the box looked like any other except for the unique photos on the walls. I particularly liked the one of a boy surfing with the sunset setting over him. As I started to look for food, I heard footsteps. I quickly squeezed behind some surfboards and boogie boards. I listened carefully to the steps, I kept on telling myself to keep calm. The footsteps seemed to stop for a while but then the door creaked and I knew that someone was inside. The thumping sound the footsteps made on the wooden floor was making me nervous. I was so scared that I closed my eyes. I just couldn’t be found. I had to stay hidden and safe.
My clothes weren’t really suitable for such a cold morning and I couldn’t stop myself, I sneezed.
“What the f**k was that?” reverberated around the beach box and I heard a scrabbling sound. I held my breath, willing the person to flee the box but the footsteps came closer and closer. I curled up in a ball, trying to make myself invisible. A strong hand reached towards me and began to pull the surfboards away. I would never be safe now.