Hello hope you enjoy,
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Chapter 2: Awakening
_Nine Sebie Pov:_
The first thing I felt was the unbearable itch.
I groaned, still half-asleep, my body heavy as if I were sinking into the world's hardest mattress. My hand lazily swatted at the itch on my leg, then another on my arm. It wasn’t enough. I scratched harder, willing the annoyance to go away. What kind of nightmare was this? Why couldn’t I sleep in peace?
Slowly, painfully, I opened my eyes. Blinding sunlight greeted me, making me squint and turn away. The sound of waves crashing nearby filled my ears, along with the distant screech of gulls. My mind was groggy, confused, and it took me a moment to realize what was wrong.
This wasn't my bed. This wasn’t anywhere near my bed.
I shot up, heart racing, as everything came rushing back to me in a cold wave of dread. The party, the storm, the yacht, the water—
I had fallen overboard.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked around, blinking against the sun’s harsh glare. I wasn’t on the yacht anymore. Instead, I was sprawled out on a stretch of sand, my body half-covered in seaweed and soaked through to the bone. The crystal-clear ocean stretched endlessly before me, waves gently rolling onto the shore.
I scrambled to my feet, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness hit me. My clothes were clinging to me, soaked and covered in sand, and my skin was a patchwork of red, irritated blotches where the sand had stuck. I slapped at another itch, groaning in frustration. My head was pounding, and every muscle ached as if I had just run a marathon.
But none of that mattered right now.
Where was the yacht? Where was everyone?
I spun around, scanning the shoreline. No sign of the boat, no sign of the party, no sign of Cris, Yvonne, or anyone. Just endless sand, the ocean, and a dense, tangled jungle behind me. I was alone.
Panic surged through me. How long had I been unconscious? How far had I drifted?
I stumbled toward the water’s edge, my legs still shaky from exhaustion. “Hello?” I called out, my voice raspy. “Is anyone there?” I listened, hoping for a response, but all I got was the sound of the waves crashing back at me.
I cursed under my breath, my mind racing. I couldn’t be the only one who fell overboard, right? There had to be others nearby. Maybe they were just out of sight, washed up further down the shore. I could find them. I *had* to find them.
I squinted at the horizon, searching for any sign of a boat or rescue, but there was nothing but endless blue. The yacht was gone. My friends were gone.
*No, no, no,* I thought, shaking my head. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. I wasn’t supposed to end up stranded on some deserted island like a character from a cheesy survival movie. This wasn’t real.
But it was.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic. First things first. I had to figure out where I was and, more importantly, how to get out of here.
Brushing off the sand as best as I could, I turned and headed toward the jungle, hoping to find some sign of life. As I walked, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of dread building in my chest. The party, the fun, the laughter—it all felt like a distant memory now, swallowed by the sea along with everything else.
I was stranded. Alone. On a deserted island.
And I had no idea what to do next.
(Geeze what you think)
