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It's 9 A.M and I'm 32,000 feet above the floor on my way to Chincoteague Island, Virginia. Chincoteague is from the Chesapeake Bay which empties into the Atlantic Ocean. I'm tired from getting up at 5:30 so that we could be at the airport three hours early so that we could get through security. I've flown many times but after 9/11 it's been become more and more challenging to fly. My grandma is on my best reading her love novel and her buddy Deloris is about my left falling in and out of bed. I'm in the middle trying to sleep but will be having a difficult time because of this two year old sitting behind me kicking my seat and screaming. I cannot wait to get this airplane off; I can smell the germs floating about in the small, congested tube that they call a airplane. It is currently 3 P.M and we are finally from the airport going towards our cabin and all I can think about is "Let's hit the shore" With my swim suit on and my towel in hand I yell, "Unpack later! We've got a beach for!" My foot eventually sinks into the sexy Virginia sand. I stop to take a deep breath, soak in some sun, after which I run to the water, projecting my towel to my grandmother. A wave come just as I am operating in and knocked me down. My eyes were stinging and I want to gag in the flavor of the salt water, but after awhile you get used it. I feel so liberated shifting back and forth with the waves. I am swimming around when all of a sudden I hear my grandma crying at me, even when I seem she's pointing behind me. I turn around and see a fin coming around the crest of the wave about 30 feet behind me. I instantly panic! All I can think about is that it's a shark, so I begin swimming as fast as I return to shore. My heart is pounding, my breathing gets quite heavy, and also...