Ocean Bound

• Izaak Taylor, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

The placid ocean was as still as the waters left stagnant in a puddle by the retreating rains. Glints of light shone off the water and warped the golden rays of the sun into twisted shafts of light.
Julia sat on the edge of the sagging raft, her two feet creating ripples, their path shepherded by her wriggling toes. For days, she had been drifting solemnly through the sheet of blue. At first, she had thought plunging into the waves with her raft and splashing with her feet to a small strip of sand, was a wonderful adventure. Her joy soon turned to terror as she was ensnared by a rip that dragged her off course and propelled her into oblivion.
The raft bobbed along on now rising but gentle waves. The driftwood, of which it was constructed, rolled and tumbled with only rough fastened loops of seaweed binding the surplus of unwanted wood together.
Julia fumbled through her salt-encrusted locks of hair. Plucking out two violet hair clips, with a slight movement with her fore finger and thumb, she fastened them to a loose piece of seaweed twine. With her withdrawn hands, she propped up her head on her lap. She knew that the waves would not stay as harmless as they were now. She could already see the undulations begin to morph into their inner bigger selves.
Not long after, the waves picked up and her craft was tossed about. The twines of seaweed, which held together splintered and fractured into smaller strings, but still the craft survived. Julia clung onto the front of the craft for dear life. She knew if she let go she would sink below the white foam and be lost to this world. She could feel her fingers slowly being prised off. She closed her eyes and tried to think of a better place, but the salt water forced its way through her eyelids. Still she didn’t give up and finally, sleep took her.
When Julia opened her eyes, everything was black. She was on a small embankment of sand with a bunch of gnarly looking trees in the centre. She tried to stand up from her raft but it seemed impossible. She knew she would die here. The ocean would take her once the tide rose again, to throw her into the ocean, to be feasted on by fish. She seemed to give up until a horn in the distance blasted the fog out of her head. It was her one chance.