Just the rock and me By Eva Merlino Blood dripping down my arm. Tears rolling down my face. Trying to pull myself up, but too scared to try. 1 hour before “Come on Kristina your so slow we don't have all day.”

My friend Kristina and I were climbing on the face of a huge bolder by the beach we were jumping, running and chatting all at the same time. As we were walking. I felt this tingle run through my whole body as if the rock was trying to tell me something. We kept on walking and chatting.

As we walked I talked to Kristina. I didn't notice that the big bolder we were climbing on had just stop I walked right off the edge and the next thing I new was that there was blood everywhere. I was dangling off the rock! If I let go I would of fallen into hundreds of waves and other rocks my whole life flashed before my eyes. My friend was freaking out. She tried to pull me up, but there was too much blood that when she took my arm it would just slip rights though her hands. At that time I had no idea on what to do. Then a voice popped in my head. “I told you something would happen. Didn't you feel when I started to shake. That was a warning.” I didn't know what it was until I finally figured out it was the rock. It kept on throwing stuff at me like “ You should not have done this!” and “I told you so” I started to talk back saying “How on earth would I know that this would happen and how did I

know that you were warning me!” It was like the rock was getting angrier and angrier because my hand would keep slipping and slipping. As we were talking my friend just got even more scared because she though I had gone crazy because I was talking to the rock. Soon my left hand had gotten to weak to hold on anymore. My friend held on to it as tight as she could. Finally she figured out a way to stop the bleeding so that my hand wasn’t slippery any more. She took of her tank top (with her bikini under neath) and wrapped in on my arm she pulled and pulled until I was back on the rock sitting they’re crying and crying. I started screaming and yelling some bad words at the rock. We ran back home to tell my mom that I needed to get help with my arm. The next day I went back to the rock to say sorry for being mean to it and for yelling at it I was only 7 and I didn't know what to do. Every time I went to that rock it would shake and I knew that it was sorry too.