Ghost Island

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** For the Island picture prompt due end of July *** *** *** *** *** *** ****

A girl, robbed of her identity, is abandoned on an Island of which she has no clue. Without any hint of how she got there, she finds out she needs to survive a trauma she doesn't remember, and escape the storm-keeper who wants to use her for his own sinister, but heartbreaking deeds. How will the girl resist travelling down the rocky road to madness, and save not only her friends from the clutches of death, but herself?
P.S. this is a first draft so it might be kinda... weird :P (and yes, I do know that I spelt 'mermaids' wrong. It is intentional)


1. Chapter One: The Awakening



She wakes up to the cacophony of screeching seagulls. She wakes up to the sight of raging sea. She wakes up to the feeling of hard rocks beneath her rough skin. And she wakes up to the smell of smoke.  


The girl sits hastily up, causing the ground to shift beneath her feet, and the sea to rock from side to side. She feels dizzy. And confused. But, despite her situation, she steadies herself, and slowly stands up. But still feeling disorientated, she collapses pathetically on the ground.    

She does not know what is going on, or who she is for that matter. And she does not know why she is smelling smoke.   

If it is even smoke.   

Because she’s even forgotten what that smells like.  

 I’m going mad she thinks, her head held tightly in her prune-like hands. And for a moment, she considers that she could be dead. Either that, or she is in some sort of asylum. Whatever that is.  

But crazy or not, there is the definite smell of smoke. So taking caution this time, quite aware that the rock beneath her toes are vibrating, she slowly stands up.  

….And she feels an agonising pain in her left leg.  

Although gasping in pain, she refuses to fall down. Alternatively, she limps quickly to a nearby wall, and leans there, her leg feeling as if someone had stabbed it several times. The girl does not know what she has done to deserve this agony. And though foolish it may be, she feels that sitting down again would result in never getting up once more. 

‘Are you okay down there?’ A gruff voice says, sending icy cold chills down her weak heart.  The girl wants to reply that she is certainly not, and she would very much appreciate being left alone, but her voice seems to have to dissapeared. She’s completely forgotten how to speak.  

Unable to communicate, the girl looks wildly around to find the source of the husky voice. 

‘What’s your name?’ The voice says again.

And with a jolt, the girl realises that she’s forgotten that too. Maybe once I knew, but now I’ve forgotten. She thinks to herself, tears now pouring over her muddy and beaten face.   

She takes a step forward, completely unaware of her injured leg. And as a result of her temporary carelessness, she crumples on the ground in a heap. And finally, she sees him; quickly walking down the almost vertical cliff towards her, towards me.

The man walking towards the girl is handsome in essence, with his deep blue eyes and sea-tousled hair. The girl assumes that he’s in his late twenties, and with his tanned skin, you would expect him to be a kind and comforting young man.    

But oh, how looks can be deceiving.  

Because the man is not at all a kind man.    

Soon the girl discovers this, as he leans over her.  ‘I said,’ he whispers, his breath smelling of sea air and something the girl can't quite place, ‘what is your name?’. 

The girl lies there, breathing heavily and wincing at the now unbearable pain. Standing up, the man scrutinizes her, intently.  

‘I think you need some rest. Why don’t you come with me?’ The man says, his lips curling unpleasantly. ‘I’m sure my wife can get you something to eat’

This is all the girl needs to push the man over, and limp as quickly as she can, away from him.   

And the girl can tell that the man wasn’t expecting the attack, as she watches him from behind a large, jagged rock nearby.   

Because swearing aggressively, he gets up, dusts himself over, and looks at her directly in the eye.   

I’ll get you for this.’ He mouths  

Aping nonchalance, the girl stares at him, resenting the moment she leaned against that wall. And slowly, she turns around,starts limping to where she has no clue, and realizes why she will never trust the stranger for the rest of her time on the island.  

One would say that it would be his strange breath. Others would say that it was his slightly creepy manner.    

But the girl?   


She would say, if she possibly could, that it was his dead eyes that drilled into her broken soul. 

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