The day was falling to an end in the sand-filled city. The top floor of the hotel is where my family and I were staying. My sisters and I had an idea to walk the beach for the last time, as it was the last full night we would be on vacation. The goal was to catch crabs in the dark and see what else we could find while still enjoying each other’s company.

They laid all of their kids down into the hotel beds and I waited. The longer I was waiting for my siblings, the more I no longer wanted to go down there, especially because I was getting sick.  I later found them and told them I was not sure if I wanted to go down for the last night walk on the beach. They promptly convinced me of all the good reasons why I should go with them. With optimistic intentions I agreed.

They left before me because I needed to grab a few beach essentials. I grabbed my phone (to take pictures and use the flashlight), a sweatshirt, and my white Crocs.  I continued down the creepy and unstable elevator, from the top floor, and met them at the bottom.

We cheerfully followed each other one by one out of the side door. As we were walking, I noticed that all of the people I was with were not wearing anything on their feet, or they had flip flops that were easy to fit into their small bags. I was inconvenienced because I decided to wear the wrong beach shoes. By the time we made it to the cross walk of the beach, my shoes were filled with sand and I could no longer walk comfortably. My oldest sister suggested to me that I should set my shoes down before we go too far.

We willingly walked back and I shook the sand out of the Crocs and slid them under the bench at the crosswalk. This was not mine or anyone else’s first time setting their belongings onto the beach cross walk. We continued our walk and traveled a long distance. We had walked at least two miles in distance on the dark moonlit beach.

The night was getting darker and we all agreed that we should turn around. This was because we understood the walk back would be tiring, and my sisters would eventually need to return to the kids (they were under supervision from the rest of the vacation party). The walk was treacherous, but we still enjoyed it together. We also saw fireworks on our way back to the hotel. Watching the fireworks was the perfect end to the night, so we all thought. As we edged closer to the crosswalk, I noticed that I could not see my bright white Crocs that were stealthily placed under the bench. After about 15 minutes of vigorous looking, my sisters and I had agreed that I had definitely been robbed.

We did not report this incident to the police, mostly because I had plenty of alternative shoes that were with me. My parents had agreed that when we returned to our home state we would get a new pair because the person who robbed me must have needed them more than I did.