Drowning While Taking Selfies. Social Stupidity.

Poor thing. I think her end is near. She doesn’t know it. This self-obsessed Teen Queen is about to do something foolish. And she’ll have the last moments of her life recorded on social media! Thank God for social stupidity!

Y’know, before I explain the life-threatening situation that’s unfolding before me, let me stop and say that there’s something oddly satisfying about it. I get sick of seeing child-adults risk life and limb for a photo opportunity.

I only went ashore for lunch. That’s all. I sat down to have my sandwich, and then this beauty in a teeny bikini strolled out of the bushland carrying a ridiculously supersized inflatable bird to the water’s edge. She hopped on it and started taking selfies. If someone told me that a near-naked selfie queen was about to turn up all the way out here, I’d say, “No way. Stop teasing me. That’s never gonna happen!”

Influence-driven behaviour is peculiar to me. Sure. Let’s watch a pretty girl take pics of herself on a pink flamingo. In her age group, it seems harmless enough. She’ll get her followers to believe she’s having the time of her life with hashtags like #lovemylife, #thisisit, #cutebikinis — guaranteed to get likes and comments. But it’s an awfully shallow way to live life.

Shore dwellers annoy me. They really do. They do things like this all the time.

They’ll stand on the shore, see a baby whale being chased by sharks, and then shame the sharks with a hashtag trend. The sharks are only doing what comes naturally. When you live on the water as I do, you see everything in its proper perspective. Let me tell you, baby whales are born to be food. Sometimes, baby whales grow into adult whales. In the meantime, they live in a predatory world. Everything in the ocean eats something else in the ocean; sharks and baby whales are just the tip of the iceberg.

The strongest and smartest whales grow up to breed the strongest and smartest whales. It happened this way long before mankind evolved and had opinions on these matters.

Humans enter the water with giant plastic playthings and believe they aren’t part of that same order, too. They make sweeping judgements through a screen while chasing trends. We are right. The answers to peace and happiness are found with an electronic device, a fake grin, and a lifestyle pic.

I’m a practical person. I live by the rules of the sea. A hashtag trend won’t help me navigate my boat. It won’t raise a sail for me or decide when to seek refuge from foul weather. A selfie won’t improve my life. I’ve already got the best life. It gave me a sailboat and brought me here. It gave me a sandwich by the water, and a new Teen Queen show like the one unfolding before me.

Oh shit! Hold on! Something else is happening.

Christ almighty! Get this! Three more of them are coming out from behind the trees. Each has a giant bird of her own. Now the three of them are splashing in the shallows, squealing, about to share the same disaster!

Jeesuzz! There’s more pussy out there than inside a cat orphanage. Well, fuck me three ways on Sunday! I must’ve just won the lotto!

Yep. Just gorgeous. All of them.

Oh, I know. That makes sense.

Pretty girls come in packs, don’t they? They don’t travel alone. They need support. I shoulda known there wouldn’t be just one. Group activity provides security. There’s safety in these numbers, but it can also multiply their collective stupidity.

I sense the conditions are right to multiply much.

Those four lasses are now jumping on top of their enormous bouncy birds, taking pictures and not paying attention to their surroundings. I think this is going to be an interesting, fine day.

I’ve sailed these parts many times. The tides rush in and out of this region faster than you can swim. It takes a good-sized anchor to hold my boat in place when it’s at its worst. And then there’s the wind to consider. It’ll push my yacht around without a sail raised. Without that anchor buried deep into the coffee rock, my boat would drift away.

Giant pink flamingos don’t come with anchors. And they don’t have paddles or motors either. The only thing that keeps them from drifting away is common sense.

Who am I kidding? Common sense is uncommon these days. Those girls have none. They have no fear, either. Without fear, nothing is stopping them from making dumb decisions. You see, they don’t know they’ve already left the shallows and strayed into the deep-water current.

To top it off, the weather turned. Those inflatables are being blown into the channel faster — nature will consume them; you be certain of that. Here, you can see it better through these binoculars. Take them, have a look. See? They’re crossing the point of no return. See those ripples around that navigational marker over there? That’s the tide running past it. The ones on the water are from the wind. Both are dragging the girls away from safety.

I could call out to them and tell them that they’re in trouble.

No. I won’t do that.

I’ve been accused of staring at pretty women before. They say I’m a creep, and I do creepy things, like stare at women.

This time, I won’t be accused of anything. I can stay and enjoy the view. In fact, give it another minute or so, and they’ll be praying that I was staring so I can save them. Things will certainly get interesting when they find out it’ll be too hard to reach the water to paddle those birds anywhere. They aren’t thin surfboards, y’know. They’re a mile above the water’s surface.

God, I sure love those bikinis — and that supple skin. Wow. Were girls this gorgeous when I was their age?

I don’t get the look-at-me lifestyle, but I certainly appreciate its view. Those chicks are smoking hot, grinding and gyrating on top of their plastic toys like they’re professional strippers while taking pictures of each other. They’re emitting nuclear levels of sexual heat, and don’t they know it? I bet that’s how they’re presenting to their fans, too. Their social media accounts will light up today.

Umm, what about the water beneath you, ladies? Is it too deep to reach the bottom now? You’re slipping away, y’know!

They’re too busy manufacturing sexual heat to care about that!

I suppose they could try to unfriend the situation! Perhaps use a block or mute button to bring them back to shore. Oh, who am I kidding? They’ll drown, and their oozy sexuality will go down with them.

Ahhh! There it is. Did you just hear it? That’s the first faint scream of realisation. It’s about time, too. Go on. Look. See Ms Pink Bikini, the one who got into the water first. She’s there shouting at her friends and waving frantically. She’s further away than the rest and knows the deal now. The one on the far right hasn’t a clue. She thinks it’s an act and laughs hysterically—still taking photos and writing something on her phone.

What an idiot.

And now she’s waving at me. Stop screaming, baby! No one out here cares! Put your fucking arms down! Use them to swim instead.

Oh, wow, look! She must’ve heard me. She’s actually doing it. She got into the water. Good girl.

Yep, it’s deep, isn’t it? What now, sweetheart? Swim back here. That’s what I’d do. Just leave the bird behind and come back to the shallows. Don’t waste time. Do it now. Do it.

What? Wait? What are you doing? Oh, I see. You’re pushing the toy from behind and kicking hard. I get it. Yes, that’s it, baby. You can do it! Go, girl.

Of course, super-sizing an animal and putting it on the open water presents a whole new set of problems for its users. There are no handholds on its sides. That’s right, it’s a toy, ya dumb bitch, not a fucking boat! They weren’t meant to be used this way.

But I bet the birds looked so very cute on other people’s social media accounts before you bought them, right?

And it’s all about cuteness, isn’t it? Cute hair, cute bikinis, cute lips and cute drinks. If you’re not cute, then you’re not living life properly.

I find it’s cute to watch them drift away. Panicky girls are desperate girls, and that makes them so damn hot. The cute factor increases.

I could go out and help, but why? Saving them doesn’t teach them anything. Besides, they’ll be fine if they stay calm and on top of their toys. Irrational decisions are what kill people. These babes should learn to problem-solve their way out of this situation. That’s what I have to do every day. The water is a dangerous place.

Oh dear, she’s going down again, poor thing. Clearly, she’s tired from kicking and can’t climb back onto the giant bird. There are no grips or ladders on its sides. Oops.

I suppose it’s a design flaw.

Pity!

Swimming was a good idea, but you can’t push the toy either. The wind has got it. Don’t worry about your phone. Your life is in danger. Wait, hey, where did you go?

Oh no, I can’t see you anymore. Oh, well. At least you tried your best, dear.

Bye.

On the positive side, your friends are okay. They can tell the others what happened to you when they return home, assuming they make it back home.

Losing one of them isn’t a big deal. Her beauty and vivaciousness will live on Instagram forever. She won’t be forgotten, trolled perhaps, but not forgotten.

The chick in the lime bikini is freaking out now. I guess she’s realised that her friend isn’t coming back. That last scream sounded desperate. Oh yes, it’s real, dear. There’s a possibility none of you will make it. It all depends on whether you keep your shit together. My money is on the lot of you losing it and drowning. You’ll be out of cell phone range soon, all alone and heading out to the ocean’s vastness.

Hey, give me my binoculars back. I wanna see them one last time up close.

Y’know, assuming they can swim, if they dived in right now, they could probably make it back to shore. They’d have to fight the current, so there are no guarantees, but they need to make a start now.

No? Why are they waiting?

Still drifting away…

Well, I’m done. It’s getting boring, and I know how this story ends. I’ve got to get back to my boat, pull up the anchor and continue sailing south. The wind is right for southing. I’ve still a hundred nautical miles to cover before the wind turns north, so I must push on.

If none of these ladies returns to shore, that’s okay. Sometimes, we need mistakes like these to remind others how fragile life is — and how dumb it is to use pool toys on rivers and oceans. There are serious dangers in taking selfies and not paying attention. Think of the thousands of lives these four deaths will save in the future.

At least their pre-demise pictures exist, recorded on social media for all to see. The news outlets will use them in their reports, which I’m sure they’ll turn into a sad and tragic story. I’ll laugh at it, knowing that it was totally misreported. It wasn’t an accident. Self-centredness and stupidity got them killed. Their deaths were inevitable. They simply weren’t the strongest or smartest animals in the ocean today.

Thanks for sticking around. It’s been good chatting with you.

-Mitchell

(Read my book. It’s dark adult fiction like this, set on the water.)


Download eBook Now or Get Paperback Here

SEETHINGS II follows the return of the Storm Killer as a body on a secluded beach in Moreton Bay, igniting fear and denial. While police dismiss the link, the media doesn’t. Mitchell Felding forms a dangerous bond with a man who understands his darkest impulses. When Natasha enters his life, carrying love letters from her murdered mother, intimacy deepens, and truth closes in. Some futures are inherited. Some have escaped.

SEETHINGS (first in the series) is downloadable and free for a limited time here.


Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Hi. Welcome to the pit.

Scroll to Top