The lone drifter

Casey-Mae is sailor and she is...... Well. Read the story.

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1. The lone Drifter

The girl lay, motionless on the damaged deck; her eyes closed as if peacefully sleeping. Her body pale and stiff........

Up.....and down, up......and down. I sensed motion as my head came to. What on earth happened? All I remember is Dad talking of venturing into the Bermuda triangle and that’s it. A complete blank. Oh, and what’s that awful smell, the wind and....salt? I open my eyes. My vision blurry and unfocused. I blink once, two, three times until it clears. I study my surroundings. The S.S Florentine? How? When? Wait, it’s all coming back....

“Dad, please, don’t go there, we’ll never come out”

“Now, now, sweetheart, the Bermuda Triangle is simply an over-told myth”

Needless to say, dad was wrong. I bolt upright. And my head swims. I lie back down and instead heave my head back up slowly. Fog and mist consumes the surrounding waters and the harsh sea air whips my face; my sinuses quiver at the nauseous smell of the sea air. I curl up in a ball. If I’m cold and distressed; I wonder how they felt on the titanic. Calmly, the boat rocks as I sit; hunched up, watching the rim of the deck bob up and down. I let out a sigh; I see my breath swirl and twist in a curl of mist; then fade and disappear. What am I to do? I am; in a nutshell; stranded and helpless. It is cold and damp and I am starving. How long have I been out? A day, two? Maybe even a week. I don’t even know what day it is. Slowly I pull myself up with the ship’s railing; I pace back and forth from the ship to get my blood pumping and conclude about what and where I am:

Firstly, I am (Probably) stranded in the Bermuda triangle. Just my luck. Anywhere else and I might have been fine, but no; I ended up with the most deadliest place ever for a sailor. Trust me.

Secondly, where on earth is my dad? Has he swum away? Is he.... IS he.... Maybe dead? No, no. I must not think these things. Okay.....

Thirdly, check the weather. A Sailor’s greatest ally. The weather. I look up. I wish I hadn’t. Dark angry clouds overcast the ocean and the wind is high. Oh dear. What am I going to do? I am desperate and hungry, half the ship is broken and......and

Wow, the winds are really picking up. Tightly, I wrap my hands around myself to conserve as much body warmth as I can. The waves are getting angry and chopping and climbing over the deck; the clouds draining all light in the sky. Faint crackles and sparks of lightning. The boat lurches and I fall to the floor. The impact making the world spin; shuddering; I pull myself up and cling to the mast, the cold and water making my fingers slip. I can’t let go. Can I? could I join my mum? Should I......

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