The Waves Took My Dog… and No One Moved
The waves crashed violently against the shore, the wind howling in my ears as panic gripped my chest. My heart pounded as I screamed, “Please! Someone save my dog!”
Bella—my sweet golden retriever—was being pulled farther and farther out by the raging sea. She had chased her ball too far, and now every wave dragged her deeper. I could see her tiny head bobbing, her paws frantically paddling… and then, she disappeared beneath the foam.
My sister clutched my arm, tears in her eyes. “I can’t swim,” she whispered helplessly. Around us, the beach crowd froze. No one moved. No one even tried. I felt my knees give out.
Then, through the chaos, a rough voice cut through the air—steady and calm.
“I can help!”
I turned, desperate for hope… and what I saw shocked me. It wasn’t a lifeguard or some surfer—it was a man I’d seen sleeping near the boardwalk, his clothes tattered, his shoes torn.
Before I could say a word, he dropped his old backpack in the sand and sprinted straight into the waves.
The crowd gasped as the ocean swallowed him whole. I held my breath, praying. Then—through the spray—I saw him, fighting the current with fierce determination, heading straight for Bella.
Would he reach her in time?
👇 Part 2 👇