Short Stories

Island

    Twenty sailors and I sailing across the sea as the waves threw us back and fourth, hurling us like a leaf in the wind.
Our destination was home on the land of dreams, Tetepare Island. We all have been starved to the point of nearly being emaciated.
These waves were pulling us to and fro knocking some men unconscious and others, died. The waves would come inside the boat to cover everyone ontop and the unlucky ones were carried away along with the waves moving throughout our boat.
     But as I looked up, I saw the mast being ripped clean out of the floor and being thrown down ontop of me nearing hitting half of my body as I threw myself and two men aside from being killed. We all knew that this was the last time being on Earth before going to Heaven; and some of us, Hell. The men that were left and I were trying to repair our ship as it was being ripped to pieces. As the boat was being torn like paper through these waves, we all decided to jump off this wretched boat and hope for the best. All my men successfully shot off the boat jumping like they were kangaroos. I had to make sure no one was left.
   The boat was clear, so I started sprinting to the edge of the boat scrambling to not be throw like a rag doll. As I started to jump, a piece of rope connected to one of the sails caught hold of my foot. It was grabbing on like a tongue to a metal pole in winter. There was no way I was going to survive this. I pulled out a knife for my last attempt to break lose before having my head be pulverized into a wooden pole holding the sail. I fell unconscious.
   By the time I woke, it was the break of dawn and I was ashore a deserted island covered in trees. My lips were faded and chapped and my stomach was empty. Starvation was the only thing that made have motivation to do something. I decided to search for any other survivors from the ship or food that I could feast upon. Three hours have passed while I was walking the entire time. My legs were twigs that were constantly moving in front of each other in a pattern including shuffling between the sand and grass.
  This was the end; a lonely beach and the smell of salty water surround no matter where you went on the island. Home was no longer a place I could reach and neither was food or shelter to survive this island. The inevitable destiny was to die of starvation on this remote island, slowly as I feel my insides gurgle and moan with pain for hours on end. Until the one day I will be at peace, the day I will die. Death was what I desired now. It is all I have ever wanted, and all I will ever have to look forward to.

                                                                             THE END