When I was younger, I loved the sea; fishing, swimming, sailing. Just being by the sea.
However, thanks to my sixteenth birthday, I doubt that I will ever go out further than the shallows of the sea again.

It's not relevant to know my name, as someone who may consider me crazy might get a hold of this account of events, but I assure you that this chain of events are true, and I am absolutely sane.
But what I'm about to tell you left me mentally scarred; any physical damage I may have obtained over time could not compare.

My sixteenth birthday was where it all started; my dad, my mom, my few friends and I were enjoying the day, opening presents, talking and singing in jest.
Then my friends suggested that I went with them to the beach for a bit of fishing, like our group did a lot on some Friday nights.
My dad was all for it, but my mom?
She most certainly was not in any mood to let four teenagers in the sea on their own, not today.
Of course, being the adventurous and self-claimed 'anything but chickens', we were -safe to say- a little displeased.

Dad followed Mom inside to talk to her as the dishes were cleared, my friends and I putting on the radio upstairs and talking about the weekend, when I heard a knock on my door.
Opening it with a puzzled expression, I saw my dad outside my room, wearing a warm, crooked smile only a parent confronting their teenage kid could wear.
One of compromised victory.

"Hey, bud. Listen, I've had a talk with your mother-" he began, before I interjected.
"Oh, God! Mom said I couldn't go, didn't she?" I moaned, followed by my friends groaning softly and looking at each other in disappointment.
"Not so fast, you lot" Dad spoke up, grasping our attention, making us look at him in wonder and confusion.
"I talked to your mother, and convinced her to let you fish with your buddies. But you come home by half nine. No later. If something happens, call us or the police. Understood?" he asked, a few of my friends nodding awkwardly, the group and I murmuring a sheepish "yup, got it."
Dad nodded, with a satisfied grin, going to get his tackle box while the rest of us got rods and line from the cluttered garage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finally, I thought we'd never get here in time. Darn traffic was worse than ever!" Owen, one of my friends, remarked in a jokey manner, the rest of us laughing as we unloaded the car.
"Right, I'll go find the renter, you guys can go ahead without me" he added.
Tracy, one of the girls, gave a scoff of upmost disgust and squared her shoulders, tossing her curls prettily.
"The renter?! That salty old cod?! He won't take kindly to us, you know this!"
"He won't if you keep calling him names like that, Trace" Jude peeped, giving the other female an incredulous glare.
"Cmon', guys. Sooner we talk to him, sooner we'll be out on the waves" I said, with a sigh, inhaling the briny sea air.
In all honesty, it was a nice sight and great sensations came with it.
Although, we all knew deep down that it wouldn't stay that way for very long.

A lot of hushed swearing, pushing and shoving later, all of us gathered outside, the four of us giving each other piercing glares amoungst mouthed insults of "wimp", "chicken" and the like.
I swallowed hard and reached out my hand to knock on the door of the boat rental.
The seaweed-laden white door creaked open, and two beady eyes in a grizzled face glared back at us.
"Whaddaya kids want?!" the renter -often known as Catfish Collins, due to his glassy eyes and face full of whiskers- spat as he flashed his gaze over the four of us. My palms began to moisten, turning back at my friends a couple of tines before looked back at the grumpy old man before me.
"You pulling pranks?! causing mischief? Well, ye better not be doin' that all 'round here" he growled, his scowl showing horribly yellow teeth. He smelled of sea salt and stale old cigarettes, too.

The girls and Owen seemed to take a step back; thanks a lot, guys.
With a gulp, I looked the old boat renter right in the eyes, mustering up the courage to even will my mouth to move.
"H-Hello there, sir. We were wondering if we could rent a boat for the afternoon. How much would it be, Mr Ca- I mean, uh, I mean Mr Collins" I squeaked, surprised I could even speak at all.

The old man leered at us, tapping the price board with one end of his crooked cane.
"Alright, um...four for the afternoon, then, please" I said, trying my best not to let my knees give way.
Partly from his presence, and the other part being from his foul mixture of scents.
Hmm...100 bucks for the day, huh? A bit pricey, but not too bad.
All four of us pooled together, and handed over some bills from our pockets, some crisp and some crumpled, and the renter seemed to smirk with satisfaction.
After he went over the rules in the boat, Owen thanked him and helped push the boat out, leaping in with us and looking back to see Catfish Collins vamoose back to his salty cabin.

Waves lapped against the boat which bobbed between the grey sky and the foamy, cold sea, the group of us getting out our rods and letting the floats and hooks plop into the water.
Jude yawned, leaning against the side of the boat, watching the end of her rod with a bored gaze.
She saw the float abruptly sink, and gave a gleeful shout of surprise.
"I got one! I got one!!" Jude squealed, the rest of us clamouring excitedly, as she hauled a large haddock into the already rocking boat.

"That's one of the biggest fish I've ever seen!" Tracy gasped, as Jude put the flopping fish into the bucket we had brought with us.
Owen snorted at her remark, eyes on his own line.
"What?" Tracy asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"You think that's big, huh?" Owen asked in contempt. "You ever heard of the legends of the deep?"
"Like...things like the Kraken and stuff?" I asked, pulling up a red and pink crab with a victorious smirk.
"Yeah, well, there is that!" Owen replied impatiently, rolling his eyes as I cast the line again.
"But have you ever heard of something called the Leviathan?" he asked.
"Yeah, I've heard of that. Don't really believe it, though" Jude said, the sky turning a darker grey, with an ominous slow pace.

"There's been rumours about it for decades; a serpent bigger than any boat or submarine, with glowing yellow eyes and a gaping maw that can swallow you in one GULP!"
At this point, Owen placed his hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.
"Asshole" I hissed as the three of them laughed, all four of us turning back to our floats.

The wind howled more and more ferociously, making the sea all the more choppy.
To say it made the boat rock was an understatement, as all four of us were needing to hold onto the side to keep us from falling over.
A few times, I could swear the bottom of the boat was hit by something more than the waves, the sail of the boat flapped frantically like the wings of a scared bird.

"Whoa, okay! Maybe we should change location" Owen said, semi-calmly, to which Tracy replied "Ya think?!" as she grabbed the handle of the rudder to help steer.
The bucket was in danger of tipping over while we tried to steer away from that particular spot, the crashing of the waves growing more and more frequent.
A clap of thunder could be heard echoing all around us, and we were fairly sure it was going to rain soon.

There was another bump on the bottom of the boat, causing the plastic hull to go off-kilter and almost capsize in addition to the help of the waves.
In a particularly hard jolt, I had stood up to try and adjust the steering to get us to shore, I was sent overboard with a stunned gasp.
My friends shouted for me, Jude trying to get the attention of someone. Anyone!
But to no avail, as the beach was pretty much empty aside from the locked boat renter's cabin, and a drunk man laying face-down on the sand.

As I drifted further and further underwater, the clasp of my life jacket coming undone, a few breaths of air drifted upwards in bubbles, my arms and legs flailed against the force of the water to try and swim back to the surface.
My lifejacket slipped off and bobbed back upwards, as I tried to weakly grab it; I was too far down. I watched  it -through blurred vision- bob up to the surface and get grabbed by something.
The butt of the boat began to float away -much to my dismay- and I extended my hand out for it.
By now, my lungs were burning, and my vision was blurred by the salty water and rough waves, so much so I could barely see.

As I blindly began to swim to shore, something moved from the depths below.
That's when I saw...... it.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared directly at my helpless swimming body, sizing me up.
I could just make out the bumps and scales on its serpentine head.
Various shades of green and grey, flecks of brown on the scales.
Perfect camouflage in a watery terrain...

I began to swim backwards for a good few feet, before I got a full view of its partially open mouth.
Its jaw slowly unhinged, revealing sharp, jagged teeth lining the dark cavernous maw that was big enough to swallow a pirate's galleon, never mind our fishing boat!
The same yellow eyes stared right through me, the creature glaring at the tiny morsel of meat before it.

Never in my life had I wanted to scream more, but I knew that I would be wasting precious air from the yell.
I wasn't sure who would hear me anyways, as I swam as fast as I could, the beast right on my tail.
Going to the boat was not an option, as it must have been either found by a lifeguard service and taken to shore, or worse, crashed and busted beyond repair.

'This was it' I thought, as I reached a mound of rocks and seaweed, the current trying to pull me back towards that thing!
'This is where I die. On my birthday, and I didn't even get to write my will. Nobody would even know what got me.'
I was running out of air, my vision blurred and the edges of it was fuzzy. Salty water began to fill my lungs as I scrambled up the rocky mountain and held on.

My head appeared above the water to take a gulp of air before a tidal wave rolled in, sucking me back into the sea.
Back towards the monster, all the while I frantically attempted to swim back to the shore.
Not daring to look back, I swam harder, further, hoping to reach land since I didn't have time to scream for help.

Lungs still burning despite the oxygen I managed to obtain, I was sure that my time had come, despite my efforts to swim to shore.
Faster and faster I swam, my blurry vision didn't seem to help in the slightest, when I was aware of something whizzing through the water.
Oh dear Lord, the screech that followed!
The creature, despite us both being underwater, gave such a loud screech that I was sure my eardrums would burst at any given second.
Something dropped into the ocean, my hand grabbing for it; a rope ladder?
I held onto it, my feet on a rung each, as strong hands pulled me up into another boat, as almost identical copy of our fishing boat, minus a sail.
Instead, this one had a buzzing motor, which propelled the passengers through the rock-grey water, salty spray landing on our faces.

Old Mr Collins was at the stern, a rifle in his hand. He looked the very spit of a sailor or pirate from old stories, three lifeguards from further down at the harbour were in the boat with us.
"Where'd ye see it!?" Mr Collins called over the chaos of the storm.
I pointed in the direction of where I saw the monstrous beast, prompting the man to shoot another bullet into the water. Then another. And another.
It wasn't long before I heard another loud screech, and the flurry of tentacles and fins sent some bubbles up to the surface.

As we got to shore, I was trembling like mad, not sure if it had something to do with the cold or fear.
I wasn't sure what time it was by now, but I didn't care.
Instead, I was escorted off the boat by two of the lifeguards, my eyes wide and staring off into nothingness. My face was as white as snow, and my clothes were soaked through.
Thunder rumbled overhead, rain cascading down in quick succession onto the bay and ocean.
"You'll be alright, now, kid. It won't come close to the shore, now. Not while I'm still sailin'" Mr Collins told me gruffly.
I didn't reply, barely registering his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My God, the rest of the evening was awful!
I barely even spoke, and trembled even more than before.
Sirens could be heard in the distance, and I put my hands over my ears as I walked to find the car, but it had vanished.
Did my friends go home without me?

I then realised; my life jacket. It was gone!
My mouth went dry, and my palms began to sweat, the scratched watch on my wrist ticking away. It was a miracle that I didn't lose THAT!
Sirens, voices, and screeching of tyres grew ever closer, and I closed my eyes as I stood still, wanting to shut it all out.
All that I saw after the first few seconds of darkness, however, was that huge mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, and those haunting yellow eyes.

When I got to my block, it was nightfall, the police officers helping me out of the car, one coming with me to the front door of my house while the other got back into the patrol car to notify the station that they would be arriving soon.
"Well, kid, you're home" the police officer said with a nod.
"I'm gonna have to ask your parents some questions when we head in, alright?"

I gave no response, still a little shell-shocked from the whole ordeal, only seeming to muster a small, respectful "yes, sir", before the officer rang the bell.
No answer.
He tried again, but still no answer.
With a confused expression, he turned back to his partner -after looking in the windows- who was staring into the empty road.

"Seems like they're out, Rod" the officer told his partner, who gave an agitated sigh and a "you've gotta be kidding! they're not home?!"

I felt the sensation of fear in the pit of my stomach returning, and I dare not speak in case I threw up from the shock.
After listening to them discuss various plans, the first officer keeping me in his line of sight, I managed to croak out that I had a key for the house, and would just wait for them inside.
Concerned, the officers waited with me while some of the other units were looking for my family.

The beating of the fans of a helicopter echoed overhead amidst the nightly traffic and pedestrians further away.
The sound made a shiver skitter down my spine.
What if my family and friends really thought I was gone? dead? would they really believe me if I told them what I saw? Should I even tell them at all, or just stay silent?
The conversations and questions of the officers kept ebbing and flowing out of my hearing, like the ice cold waves that were one of the factors of my near demise.
I wasn't even sure f I could even hear the difference between regular traffic and the rumble of my family and friends' vehicles, the same screech replaying in my head that made me flinch and shake involuntarily.
My arms snaked around myself, but it didn't stop the trembling.

Voices. Multiple voices flowed in and out; at me, at each other, and at other sources I couldn't quite pinpoint.
My eyes were wide open, staring at nothing, unable to bring myself to talk about this.
Who would believe me, anyways?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been quite a few years since the traumatic experience, and even now my weathered hands are shaking as I write this recount of that fateful day.
I can even taste the bitter tang of bile rising up into my mouth, my pencil is very near breaking thanks to me holding it so tightly.

For years on end, I am still terrified of being in large bodies of water, even lakes when I go fishing with my youngest child. He didn't seem to mind swimming on his own, or the fact that his old man can't go with him, yet I still feel guilty about my phobia, as if I'm letting my family down.
Before my wife and I got married, she encouraged me to talk to someone in the medical field to see how my psyche was affected.
Turns out that not only did it scar me for life, but the final blow was being diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Since then, I'm thankful that I still had a loving family and good friends, even though I'm getting on in age.

Even as I watched my family grow, see my two sons and eldest daughter succeed in fields of education I wished to have at their age, the night of my sixteenth birthday still haunts me both day and night.
Laying in bed, I will feel the coldness on my skin of those salty waters.
As I close my eyes, I will be greeted by those yellow eyes and that gaping maw lined with hundreds of sharp teeth.

Some strangers find my fear bizarre.
Irrational. Even stupid, saying so to me.
I let them, for they don't know why, and I pray that they never come face to face with the horror I encountered.

If it's even out there.
Though Mr Collins, may he rest in peace, seemed to have shot it, I still have my suspicions of it still being ariund
Especially since I've seen reports of people dying at sea.
But people reckoned that they drowned or were attacked by sea predators.

After all, not many people would believe that it would be the Leviathan causing all of the deaths.
"It's just an old tale" they say, while laughing at the believers of the supposed myth.

But I know what's out there.
And for that reason, and that reason alone, I will never go out into the ocean again

~~The End~~