Monsters

I thought we were safe from the sea. I mean, the shore should be far enough away, right? It's not like the monsters could actually get out of the water. They shrivel up as soon as they leave the ocean.
But then it flooded.

Our quaint little house was flooded up to the second floor, leaving nothing but our bedrooms and the roof dry. Then they came. They invaded our home, and threw furniture up the stairs to scare us into coming out, and slipping into the sea. One even managed to lasso your foot. But I cut it off with a pocket knife. We dumped rat poison into the water below, hoping to make the monsters sick.
They only grew stronger.

One eventually got one hand onto the top step of the staircase, the only dry one out of all of the steps. It's skin sizzled, but it stayed for five whole minutes until the burning was too much to bear and it slipped away. I remember how frightened we were. But we had survived so far. I thought we'd be ok.

But the creatures only became accustomed to the burn of dry land. Everyday we would see scaly, yellow claws clutching at the wood of the floor, squeals and grunts coming from underneath the surface of the water.

Do you remember what we ate that whole time? I think once we tried to fish, but we kept either catching the monsters or watching the monsters eat our catch. Sometimes both. They were cannibals. I think we eventually turned to eating the mice and rats that scurried around up there. I remember once trying to keep two rats to breed them for food, but the male ran away. I don't blame him. He was only trying to survive like we were.

The monsters eventually came for us. But by then we had crafted a raft with an old lawn mower engine attached to it and a propeller made out of the ceiling fan. We sped to land. Then I remember running. Running for our lives even though the monsters were miles away. We didn't stop for hours. Not even for food or water. I would not relax until we were at least one state away from an ocean.

I never wish to live by the sea again.