Young Writers Society

The waves are erupting around me like a volcano. Each blade of water piercing my skin and my weak dinghy. Jess is bleating with boredom. She wants to chase sheep through the fields back home. The rusty anchor is weighing us down but it is much too heavy to relinquish. My arms are aching, stinging. The piece of wood which we are perched on resists any movement and there is no sight of anything but blue both literally and mentally.

The storm has passed but we are still suffering. I am starving and my stomach is howling like a hungry wolf. Jess is feasting on the gilled mammal with my sharp stick protruding from its substantial lip. Jess is grinning like a child on Christmas. I’m not. The light ripples of the evil water are knocking our boat, our home. The water is enticing me to drink. To poison myself. My clothes are sagging; I am chilled to the bone despite the glowing red ball laughing in my face. The water ripples directing me the way to safety. To survival. I take the moment to smile. To actually mean the happiness. Despite the relentless hate the sea has for me. The moment is bright.

I am thrusting frantically toward the black shadow floating on the curvature of the earth. The small rock welcoming me to the rocky resort. My smile is growing each time my paddle lifts from the water. My feet are warm now; I’m surrounded by pale stingrays. They are teasing Jess. I take my first step onto heaven, or as some richer people may call it, a beach. The palm trees standing over me are like coins piled high in the sky, gleaming, signalling everyone who has nowhere to go. Everyone like me. I scream but no one looks at me as though I’m crazy. I’m away from society. My solitude and I are finally together after 32 years of my life of suffering I’m here. I’m home. My arms and my legs are trembling with both happiness and fatigue. I decide to lie down and steal some long lost shut eye.

I wake up to the sirens of Jess barking and racing towards the sea. The chill of the sunset carefully scatters goose bumps on my bare, red skin. As I lift my head I see an impressive commotion disturbing the solid sea. A fish I expect. I slowly wonder towards the beige rope tied to the bending palm tree. My filthy hands wrap around it and I tug my home towards silver beach. I need to be in my boat, the hooligan. It’s been weeks, months sleeping on my wooden bed, the swell of the sea lulling me to sleep, I felt that I was betraying the ocean after all it has done for me and so I jump into the boat and Jess joins me. I patrol the island until I find a beautiful cave luring me into the suitable shelter. I could sense a following of a higher mammal an animal much more powerful than the average human (myself). My back hit the wooden boat as I lay down. My pupils circled my eyes as I inspected my room for the night. The hole in the top of cave insured a beautiful sight of the ivory circle in the sky. My favourite planet. I wrapped my exposed arms around the black and white ball of fluff, Jess. The sweetest of whistles lifted both my mood and my head. Curiosity filled my body as I grinned then almost unconsciously sat up. My eyes open and i lean over the side of the boat the beautiful lullabies lured me to the water; the sugary harmony of a vocal cord now entered the echoed cave. The sight of a glowing woman appeared in the clear water beneath me. The water suddenly disappeared and the woman lost her scaled fin for pale skinny legs. The aqua dress she stood in reminded me of the temptation the poison water provided me with. My closed fist opened up revealing a pumping heart, my pumping heart dripping with lust blood. The blood was slithering through my slightly opened fingers and onto her long, pointed tongue. Her mouth opened and she bit into the carmine piece of meat.

I woke up in my tent. In the lush green hills of Scotland.”Home at last”. I breathed