Lifeboat

1. I See You

Author's Note

If you are reading this story on any other platform than Wattpad, you are at risk of a malware attack. Wattpad is the only site I have given permission to publish this story. To read it in its original, safe form, please go to Wattpad. Thank you. @Mrsdeemo

Okay. I'm alive. I can tell that I am because I'm still breathing. There's a wheezing sound going through the plastic mask that covers my mouth and nose. Vague light blinks in and out around my aching eyes.

Why do my eyes ache?

I try to focus them down on my body, lying inert in the darkness, a motion of up and down raises and lowers my prone body. I wonder if I'm alone?

Checking to the left, I then blink and grimace against the striking pain ripping through my skull at this rapid eye movement. Gasping, I let my head take its time to turn to the right and soak in the comforting blackness to that side too.

My body is rocking. I'm almost lulled back into the soothing void of sleep from which I woke.

My head is as thick as concrete, dull and heavy. I'm lying in a concave object. There's something surrounding me on all sides, not much wider or longer than my body.

I blink again. Breathing is easier now.

Sending a signal to my right arm, I persuade it to reach up from beside my belly, to pull away the stifling mask.

There's an elastic cord wrapped around the back of my head, and it takes an enormous effort to raise the concrete block of my skull far enough to allow the cord to pass.

I take a long, full breath. The air smells damp.

As I rest back against the hard material under my head, I understand that this 'container' I'm in has a solid, yet pliable structure. I'm guessing a kind of hardwood.

There is no cover to this container, the darkness above me finally becomes clear to my fuzzled brain as the night sky. Yes. I can definitely make out a pattern of pin pricking stars, so distant yet obvious as they sparkle through the black and purple-grey. They must be the source of the soft light.

The rocking motion is incessant. I have to concentrate on staying awake or face losing my new found consciousness. Drifting back to the comfort of the cradle rock.

I become aware of each beat of my heart, every wave of cool air that enters my nostrils, the subtle rise and fall of my chest.

Forcing my eyes down to look at the red and blistered skin that covers my torso, I gasp at the realisation that I'm naked. I can just make out the light orangey-yellow of my nipples. The flesh has been badly burnt, but I have no recollection of when or how.

Perhaps I should be crying in pain right now? The state of my skin should make even the hardest soul crack, yet I don't feel a thing.

I urge my right arm to move and bring it close enough to my eyes to take a look at the birthmark there on the inside of the wrist.

Sure enough, as the flickering specks of starlight phase in and out, I can see the faded shade of caramel pigmentation that once formed the shape of the number eight.

This number no longer existed. The shape slithered and contorted, alive and in motion. The pale colour spreads from left to right. Bile rose in my throat while I watched transfixed. The mark eventually settled and held fast in one area.

I turned my wrist at an angle away from me, to catch more of the stars' inconsistent glow. The birthmark had changed.

Swallowing hard, my pulse recommenced its elevated state and I blinked rapidly to try and clear the reality of what I saw.

No longer the chunky, doughnut symbol eight, the tattoo appeared now as a sleek, elongated version of the number seven.