I slowly stepped down the frozen lakes that looked like football stadiums, afraid I may crack through the ice and begin drowning in this aquatic graveyard. Just what I thought happened. The next second, I found myself deep inside the claws of the frigid lake. I could hardly keep my breathless head above the piercing water, my heart trembling with paralyzing fear.
I could smell the glacial air of the lake running into my overwhelmed nostrils. I tasted the fresh water streaming through my mouth like an uncontrollable Tsunami. I spotted a small wooden stick swimming through the water like a snail. I attempted to reach for it, just before I noticed a pair of enormous fangs. As I looked more into it, a gigantic mouth that resembled an abyss opened and began roaring into my dying face. Its dark teeth were painted in human blood. I tried swimming further but before I knew it, I was in a tunnel of blood-stained bones reminding me of the chocolate-covered strawberries my mom had made last month.
I was stuck in the stomach of a shark, finally able to breath. I was starving, so I reached out for my lunch sack. I pulled out my Pb & J’s sandwich and began munching on it like a starved animal. I hadn’t eaten for a couple of days. As I finished my sandwich, I pulled out my wet apple. I took a big bite as I began walking down the aisle of blood and bones. I was disgusted by the fact that I was sitting alive in the stomach of a shark. I bumped into another person in the shark’s body.
“Hello?! You are also here?” I asked.
The other girl remained quiet, trying to signal she didn’t know English.
“Oh! That’s fine. Talk in your own language. Hola!” I said.
“Hola, buenos días. Mi nombre es Tara. Soy de España. Solo hablo español. Solo hablaré contigo en lenguaje de señas,” said the girl.
“Can you try to speak English? I don’t get anything,” I said.
“Tricked you! Yes, I can speak English,” said the girl.
“PHEW! You almost scared me. I was like, how am I gonna communicate with this girl who doesn’t even know my language!” I said.
The girl and I both headed towards the deeper side of the shark’s body. We saw a dead chicken. I picked it up and placed it on the coal-hot surface of the shark’s body. It was so hot that when we touched it, we got blisters. Twenty minutes later, we cut the chicken into small pieces. She pressed the chicken so hard that it made a chicken broth. We kept cooking the soup until it was hot and delicious.
“FOO! Yum! This soup is very good despite having been made in a shark’s body,” said the girl.
“I know, we have to find a way to get out of this shark!” I said.
“How?” asked the girl.
“Let’s cut through his skin and get out!” I yelled.
“No! Are you crazy or something? I would rather die than kill this poor shark!” said the girl.
“Poor shark, you say? It swallowed us! Look, I know you love animals but this is our only way of survival,” I said.
“Fine! But a small cut. And, before we leave, we will heal his wounds. Deal?” asked the girl.
“Okay, sure!” I said.
We both walked towards the end of the shark where it was dark and narrow. We picked up a wooden stick and stung the shark’s skin. It began to bleed. All of a sudden, the girl started crying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“We are hurting a shark,” said the girl.
“Here we go again. We will cure the shark too! We ain’t got time right now. Just help me poke it a little more!” I said.
The more we hurt the shark, the more it moved and wobbled. It repeatedly caused us to fall. But the more we fell, the more it motivated us to get up and keep trying.
Eventually, we saw water and popped out of the shark quietly. We covered its small wound with lots of seaweed and taped it with the roll of tape the girl had in her sack. We quietly swam through the wild, filthy ocean, petrified that another shark may swallow us. We took a deep breath as our heads popped above water level.
“That was quite a journey. I have a salami sandwich. We could split it in half,” I said.
She snatched it from my hands and she gobbled up the sandwich like a homeless person who hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“I am stupid to be asking this now, but what is your name?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, my name is Alejandra. I am from Spain. I wandered to this ocean and have been lost for a while now. I am planning to stay here for a couple more weeks to explore. Then I shall return back home,” said the girl.
“Wow! I am Chloe. My parents told me to go to Antarctica to collect information about the area. We might move here. But after this scene, I am not!” I said.
We both bid farewell to one another hoping to see each other someday.
