The Island

A sickening crunch cut through the air.  There was no “lull before the storm”; pandemonium broke out instantly. The ship was sinking!!! Absolute chaos was exactly what reined on the ship.  People were collecting their luggage, money and clothes from their cabins and then realized there was nowhere to go. A lamp crashed onto the floor and a section of the deck caught on fire. Even though the stormy tempest thrust gallons and gallons of water into the fire, it failed to quench the oil fueled blazes. Then they started screaming and sobbing and running around in circles.

I rushed towards my cabin, which was located in the lowest layer of the ship.  I crashed into my room and wondered what I could take with me. I shoved my penknife, my compass and my waterproof ration pack into my backpack.  I was about to take my sword and gun but I realized that I would probably get killed by my own sword if I took it into the tumult of the sea and my gunpowder would soak and get ruined.

As I emerged onto the deck, I realized there was almost no chance of survival, but I remained calm.  I had lots of experience as a sailor and shipwrecks were no novelty, as I had survived about twenty, but none as bad that one.  Another crunch echoed throughout the ship and I started considering jumping off the ship when I noticed pools of blood floating upwards where others had abandoned ship.  Then again, I might’ve climbed up to the crow’s nest, even though it was swaying precariously, if I hadn’t been swept to the side of the ship by an unexpected lurch.

I crashed through the side of the ship and fell into the raging ocean.  As I fell into the water I almost impaled myself on a gigantic pointed rock.  Dropped downwards through the water, I realized these jagged stones were the cause of the shipwreck and as I examined them more closely I saw they were patched with some sort of white marble.  Then, as my descent slowed down I saw an aged skull lying on one of the rocks and it seemed to be molten at the base.  The “white marble” I had seen were bones which had been softened by the ocean and stuck to the stone.  Then, at the shallow seabed I saw enormous crabs which had already started to feed on the fresh corpses.  Then they tossed the chunks of bone towards the rocks, and then I saw why: they lived in the rocks.

As I floated towards the surface I grimaced at how ironical it was that the stone was strengthened by the bones of their victims.  Then I surfaced.  I was tossed up and down and to the sides and the sea seemed to want to break me as it didn’t stop tossing me around until I slumped onto a smashed piece of driftwood and floated away on it, hoping that I wouldn’t drown.

I regained consciousness on a sandy beach, and the first thing I noticed was that I didn’t seem to be dead, not even in pain.  The sand prickled my back and the longest wave managed to wet my side.  A deformed orange crab burrowing in the sand must’ve thought that I was a carcass and started to nibble my toe but I kicked it off and it scampered away.  I relished the prospect of lying on my back and letting the cool air brush my back and feeling the sun warming my back after the nightmarish shipwreck last night.  I would’ve lied on my back for hours if I hadn’t heard three chattering voices whispering close by…