Quicksand Monologue

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I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die! I thought to myself as my legs sunk deeper and deeper into the mushy, brown quicksand. It’s a boy. I thought to myself for the hundredth time since we left my aunt’s ultrasound. Lindsay, my aunt, got pregnant six months ago, and soon will be adding another boy to my family. I already have six cousins who are boys, and that is just on my dad’s side. Not to mention that I’m the only girl. My grandma, Nana, has red hair that is complemented by grey streaks all around. Her skin is slightly wrinkled, but her personality shines bright. She and I flew to Hawaii to visit my dad’s sister and my mom’s brother, who are, as a matter of fact, married. Now, I always joke by saying things like, “Hey…show more content…
Where are my feet? I looked up, finding the shocked faces of my aunt and grandma, and the laughter of my uncle. I tried to jump, but only sunk deeper as my feet found no grip. Whats happening? Why can’t I keep going? Why am I inside of the ground? Quicksand isn't real, right? I shifted my body to face the fallen tree trunk. Now the top of my calf was buried. Maybe quicksand is real… I thought to myself growing more and more panicked. I’m in quicksand! I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die! I thought to myself as my legs sunk deeper and deeper and deeper into the mushy, brown quicksand. I froze. Think! Think! How do I escape with no grip? Maybe i actually do know something about escaping quicksand. I know that moving will make me go deeper. So what do I do to get out? According to every adventure movie that takes place in a jungle, if you move it gets worse, so how do I get back to solid ground? How did they get out of the sand? Explorers grabbed branches and pulled themselves out, right? I frantically glanced around, although cautious of my movements, causing my legs to sink into the mush. There apparently were no branches to grab. Giving up on the “use nature to get out of nature” factor, I thought of what else people
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