The gurgling waters splash and sputter, carrying my tiny, helpless body away. The wind howls. Salty rain hits my face, mixing with silent tears.

"I'm going to die," I whisper to myself, "Just except it. My life's over."

I don't try to swim. I know it's useless. For so many summers, my father tried and tried to teach me. He even threw me in the deep end of the pool, only for me to sink. He learned his lesson after paying a big, fat hospital bill.

That same summer, I fell in love. Not with a boy, like most girls my age, but with poetry. Now how will I get published? How will anyone ever read my hard work? My notebooks are probably completely ruined by now. Curse this stupid hurricane! Curse the flood!

My love of poetry gets me thinking about my other favorite thing in the whole wide world, my kitten Muffin. Where is she? I now have an urgent reason to live. My cat needs me.

"Muffin!" I scream over the crashing waves and whipping winds. I have to find her. All of a sudden, I can't think. I can't breathe. I can't move. My life is crumbling around me and there's nothing I can do about it. My mother's gone. My father's gone. My cat's gone. My whole town is gone. I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper under the murky water.

I hear a strange noise. A mix between a cat crying and a dog howling. I look up and there it is. A lone house, the only one left on this street, is towering above me. On the roof is Muffin, calling a strangled, wild call.

"Muffin!" I yell. At the sound of her name, she quiets. I paddle over to the house, trying not to drown. I grab onto a single loose shingle and start climbing, climbing, climbing out of the frigid water. Nothing can stop me from getting to my baby.

I reach the roof. "Oh, Muffin," I coo, cradling her in my arms. I look down upon the street. Well, not really the street anymore, but you know.

Crazed and freezing, I make my way to a narrow balcony. I slip in the door and water a foot high pours out, covering my already soaked feet. Inside I find a cozy pink bedroom that seems to go on forever. On a warm-looking twin bed, is a brown-haired little girl, no older than five years old. Her eyes widen in fear at the sight of me. I can't look all that appealing, what with my long, tangly hair and ripped clothes. Hey, you wouldn't look all that great either if you just traveled a half mile by way of water. And not in a boat.

"Hello," I say, tentatively, stepping forward. "My name's Cam. What's yours?"

"H-H-Hannah." She hiccups and grabs her throat.

"Are you okay?" I go over to her. She coils back in fear. I hear a snapping sound. Then a stream of water rushes into the room. "Um, we need to go," I say, racking my brain for an idea. Something we can get away on. Mattress? No. Dresser? No. Framed surfboard? Perfect. I grab it off the wall.

"No!" Hannah shouts. "That's Daddy's signed Laird Hamilton board!"

"She talks," I say to myself. I turn to the girl. "Hannah, it's our only hope of getting out of here alive. Trust me."

She nods, almost in tears. As the water engulfs all her belongings, we climb out onto the balcony and hop on the board. I remember to grab Muffin right before we get swept away, but she's out of my reach. I'll never see her again. A single tear slips down my face as I watch her struggle to swim, then go under.

It's true. She's gone forever. A single ray of sun shines through the dark clouds, the first sign that the storm's letting up. The first sign of hope.