Almost Deserted Island Rescue

I walked parallel to the water in silence, listening to the waves crash in a rhythm beside me. The grainy sand squished between my toes. The briny smell of the ocean was bittersweet. I sensed that there had been many tragedies in the wide expanse of sea, and many triumphs to balance them out. But what was this beautiful place? Why couldn’t I find a name for the border where the sea met the sand? I sensed that I could have, once. But when did “once” end and this walk begin? I couldn’t say. The sun was beating down on my back, and I looked down at myself. A tattered black shirt hung from my shoulders. A pair of jeans clung to my legs with sweat. How long had I been walking? There were so many questions, and not a single answer to speak of. I had no destination, and many things were missing names as their pictures bounced around inside my head.

Finally, the heat was too much. Though of course I didn’t know such a thing to be true, my instincts told me that the green leafy mass to my left would provide cover. I changed my path. As I entered the greenery, something told me I was being watched. Was it an animal sensing a disturbance in the area? Should I run? Or could there be another of my kind around? Maybe that wouldn’t be preferable to an animal.

The thought stopped me up short, and I stood just inside the cover of the leaves, stock still. “My kind?” How come I didn’t even know what to call myself? If I didn’t know where I belonged in this place, I was sure I couldn’t protect myself, and I really did feel eyes on me. Maybe they were curious or defensive eyes, but there was nothing to say they couldn’t be hungry…

Just then, the snap of a twig broke my reverie. This seemed too cliché to me, though I had no memory of any particular snapping twigs. Something told me this was the part of the story where the scared, lost girl runs.

Lost. Is that what I was? The word didn’t feel right. So maybe I didn’t need to run for cover after all. All the same, I turned slowly around, trying not to move a single grain of sand on the ground. I didn’t want to attract attention. I looked up then, straight into the eyes of a boy, his arm up, a rock held tightly in his fist. I was sure he would throw it straight at my forehead if I let my guard down. My arms lifted of their own accord to protect my face. But he didn’t move. We just stared at each other. He was one of my kind, whatever we were, the first one I’d seen since the walk began. And I could see, from the shocked expression on his face, that he had never seen one of us either. I started to drop my arms, and before I could react his arm shot forward and released the weapon in his hand. The last thing I registered was a sharp pain rocketing through my skull before my mind shut down.




I woke up tied firmly to a tree with woven grasses. I couldn’t move my arms, my legs, or even turn my head. For an entire day I stood like that, terrified that I would be killed. The time dragged on. Possibilities ran through my mind like wildfire. Roasted over a fire, stoned to death with a thousand rocks identical to the one that had landed me in this position in the first place. Watching as I was stabbed, helplessly unable to move a muscle in self defense. I began struggling against my bindings, terrified of all the different morbid scenarios. I could not loosen them at all. My kidnapper was talented. Still, I struggled. The only other option was to give in to an almost certain death.





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