The Cry of The Island

Chapter One

The Lagoon.

The blonde haired boy rose from an unconscious state on a sand hill like incline, laying under a small palm tree that had flopped over boughs to provide shading. A thickness of a tree trunk would lay behind him with his head nearby to the bark, as his body was in fetal and curled up to the side in a daze. He sat up, looking around as his eyes examined the island, more specifically the tall strip of palm trees that gave way into the jungle's potential. The boy had hoped to turn his head further, though the strain was preventing this hope and his fatigue gave him no go ahead to shift his frame. This island being stranger, and alien. Isolated in exploration and solitary, he began to consider the prospects of understanding the surroundings. Not feeling batty, an orange bath of heat was now opaque as the clear sky would land on the sand around him. The sea trickling marginally against the sand was serene and unlike the sand he had seen before. In the depths of it howbeit, it wouldn't be a revelation to one if some style of leviathan would conceal under the beckons of the ocean. He shook his blonde strands of long curly hair, feeling the streams of sand make their way back onto their beds as he muttered under his breath. His articles of clothing were hardly wearable, his white t-shirt held rips and scrags that would give transparencies to his belly button and torso. His black shorts came down to his shins, though it didn't take long before sweat caused the garment to stick to his thighs. There was a platform of about ten metres long on the right from him and only a few metres away, wooden in its design with an area of water deep enough to bath in. On the far left side of the beach near some palms, there would be another area of water which seemed to be surrounded by flat rocks all piled up. A tall cliff would be a presence of a tall cliff and a cornering that was too hard to see around from where he was, as he dismissed his wandering eyes from his seated position. A shell was buried in the cusp of the sand and bole of the palm tree in front of him. In colour the shell was a deep cream and pink with tints of red on the edges of it, reaching sidewards from his seated position, he groaned as his abdomen was tested. He played with it in his palm, occasionally spinning it in his loose grip as he tried to find some excitement with it. The boy would shake the sand out of it, brushing off the remains that made a soft layer on his shin. The sand wasn't the sort to stick to your toes, graceful and weightless in its construction. This phantom of the shell and the island held no relevance to eachother in his mind, as he gazed in it with a blistering window of melancholy.

Within the crystal vision of the beach a light would fumble along. This light jogged like a student losing a race at school, too tired to truly get over the finish line. The blonde haired boy would look out into the distance at the mirage, seeing it get closer and closer to his shaded area. The being would spot the boy with the shell, close enough to be heard now.
"Hey! Whatcha doing with that shell? You ain't on your own are ya?" It eccentrically spoke.

It took a moment for the blonde haired boy to respond, as he shook his head in order to do so. The speaking dream would clamber up to get under the shading offered underneath the palm, crouching in front of the blonde as if he knew him before arriving on the island. Shorts, shirtless and freckles occasionally over his face and on his shoulders. Tattoos on his hands and one on the left side of his chest, though it seemed absurd without question as to why they were there initially. He seemed to have lost the youthful look in his face, as his upper body was lanky and thin. His hair too was blonde, but a darker blonde that wouldn't match the words that came out of his mouth. Atticus returned to sitting down on the sand, as the soft cream wouldn't dare to stick to his body.

"You must be on your own then. I'm Sidney Alexander. Friends call me Sid. What's your name?"

Sidney extended his hand, as the opposing blonde shook his hand with a lack of interest and care.

"Atticus."

A wide smile came from Sidney, as he propped himself seated down next to Atticus. Atticus couldn't tell whether to somewhat scoot away from him, but he didn't want to seem too obviously uninterested in the boy. There was a brief silence between them.