It was the first time out of the country for my brother and I. Mexico seemed to be like a tropical dream. The sun’s rays beat down on your skin, turning it to shiny red like a lobster. I swam up to the bar and got whatever nonalcoholic drink I wanted. It was nothing like I had seen before. While the resort was a good place to hide from the real world, my dad and I wanted to get some adrenaline rushing. I stayed back, but my dad wandered out to the beach to see what excursions we could do. It was decided that the next day we would go parasailing. 

I sat out by the pool in the morning, right before we went. I wasn’t scared, but I was thrilled to fly up in the air. One other couple that was down on vacation with us decided they wanted to come too. Once the time came, we made our way to the soft sands of the beach, touching land for the last time. 

My dad and I hopped on a jet ski that steered its way to the boat. The gusts of wind blew your hair in every direction. Stepping up from the jet ski onto the boat was a challenge because of the ocean’s waves. We were situated on the boat, waiting for the go-ahead to get strapped up and fly for a little bit. 

Slowly, the rope sent my dad and me further away from the boat til the wind caught ahold of us. Eventually, we were suspended in the air, just letting our feet fall. It was peaceful. Calm. Being up there distracted me from everything around us. As I looked down, I tried to find any animals in the blue, clear water but saw none.

We started moving in inch by inch until our toes touched the floor of the boat. The next couple. A shark dove up out of the water with its mouth open wide, seeing all the razor-sharp teeth. He tried to chomp the couple’s legs right as their feet left the boat but was just one inch away from piercing their skin. That shark missed his next meal and swam away into the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The couple kept on with their parasail and went as high as they could in the air.

Immediately, being on the boat didn’t feel as safe as being back up in the air. The parasail was controlling the boat cause of the strong wind. It was a yellow flag that day, but you would think the stronger wind was better for this excursion. The boat was stuck, being pulled back by the parasail. 

Once the couple came back down, the workers started to wrap everything up and pack up the parasail. Grumbling came from the workers, and I felt a pit form in my stomach. The parasail rope got caught in the propellers. One worker jumped in the water and tried to untangle it, but it was no use. We were stuck at sea. The land kept moving further into the horizon. Me in 5th grade thought this was the end. I would never touch land again. Thinking about everything that could go wrong, I just hoped we would wash up at a beach nearby. 

 My dad reads the sign above the captain’s room. “Tips appreciated. Yeah, they will not be getting any money from me.” That got a chuckle out of everyone, lightening the mood for everyone while we were in the middle of the ocean.

 Atlas, a jet ski from shore to pull us in. I ran onto the beach and my feet touched the soft, hot sand and gave my mom a hug. The words started flowing out of my mouth and I told my mom and brother everything. Never again would I go parasailing in Mexico.