Man's Down

The Boat

It finally was morning. I slowly crept out of my log bed and washed my shirt in the river. I was tired. I ate an anchovy. I grabbed my bag. I was almost robotic in the way I did these things, as I forced myself to wake up. After what seemed like hours, I was ready to move again. I threw my blue battered backpack over my head and shoved all my belongings in it. Then I started to walk. My burnt blisters and flaming legs refused to continue. But I forced them too. When I got to the dock, at least then I could rest.

The winding road never seemed to end. I kept trodding on and on and on, up this big hill. And what would be at the top? Nothing! Nothing like always.   I still panted up though. I nearly reached the top. And I was there. I gazed at over the landscape, even though I was tired of the hills. In the distance, I could see a lake. And some men, pulling canoes on to the shore. The shore. It wasn't a lake. It was an ocean. I had reached the ocean. I ran towards it, as fast as I could run. My backpack clinked as I ran. The wind swept across my face. I was nearly there. I was getting closer. I was metres away from the sand. And I was there. I flopped my body out on to the sand. The sea licked my face like an excited puppy and the sun smiled brightly. It was glorious.
I heard a voice. "Oi! This is a private beach, not for you to lie on." His voice was rough and sandy. I looked up at his face inquisitively. He had a scar running across his cheek and tanned skin. There was a boat behind him, coated in barnacles.
"Did you hear me?" He asked.
I scrambled to my feet and apologised. 
"Where does that boat to?"
"My boat. England. I'm bringing a few close friends."
"Could I go on it?" I took a deep breath.
"No." He demanded. I sighed.
"I can pay you. 1000 Euros. That's all I have."
"There is not a bed for you, but I could set one up. I'll take the money, but I  want something else when we get there."
"What do you want?" I really wanted to get on it.
"I don't know but just 1000 Euros isn't enough."
"Okay." He took me over to the boat and I climbed on board. I struggled to stand up, I never liked boats.
"You're lucky though. My house is just  over there on the cliff." His house was massive and modern. "It didn't take us long to get everything ready. If you had arrived an hour later we would be out in the ocean." I looked around the boat and the people on it. A middle-aged woman with a ponytail and a white cap, holding a notepad. A young man, smoking over the edge of the ship. He coughed roughly. A small boy, around 13, looking at the sea. And the man that brought me on the boat, he was untying the boat. He pushed the boat away from the dock, headed towards the wheel and then we started moving. I was on my way to Summer.