Charlotte Descriptive Writing

My exhausted feet ached as I climbed the last steps of the metre high lighthouse. The constant waves could be heard yelling at me through the old brick walls. As I looked out the sea sprayed windows I could see and hear an angry storm that was kilometers away. Suddenly, a sound as loud as a trumpet gave me a massive fright knocking me down to the hard, water soaked ground. I pulled my weak body up high enough just in time to see the remnants of the ginormous wave of water that had hit the old concrete tower that still stood strong. I slide down to the cold walled preparing my worn out mind for a ruff night.