Sinking

• Helen-leigh Simpson, Grade 10, Heights College
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

The ocean churned in an untamed fury, painting pictures with the moon light. Froth lined each savage wave’s lip. There was but one other shape that could be distinguished from the raging sickly-green water, a small white boat battling the wild weather. The small wooden mast had snapped clean in the centre, the sail were discarded, thrown like litter into the waves. There was a figure standing at the back of the craft, trying desperately to pull it back onto its original course.
As she grew closer, her features became suddenly more visible. Dark hair clung to her back in wet clumps, fierce grey eyes scanned to ocean. She looked terrified, teeth clenched, lips pulled into a hard line. The storm had entrapped her, like a butterfly in a jar. The resistance she was putting up against the wild elements was feeble. The sea tossed her boat like a toy. The waves were building, intensifying. A wall of water rose up that sought to despond and destroy anything in its path.
She saw the frothing wave before her, terror frozen in her expression. A strangled cry left her damp lungs, before the wave roared as it swallowed the ship completely. Her weak form plunged beneath ocean surface. She thrashed around it the pitch black water, desperate for air. I saw the determination in her soul; she had something to live for.. Her legs kicked in a hopeless attempt to propel her upward.
Now she was looking death straight in the eye, toying with the line between hope and utter despondency. Far in the distance, the lights of her boat shimmered for the last time as it sank into the abyss. Left in darkness and holding onto the last shred of strength she could muster, she swam, each stroke weakening considerably to the next.
At last, the darkness she had tried to fight off so desperately, engulfed her entirely. A small stream of bubbles left her open mouth, as the waves threw her lifeless body around like a rag doll.
For a few moments, only silence was audible.
How many times had I witnessed this scene? Countless sea-farers had travel this way, both terrified and intrigued by the storm. Of those whom had travelled here, very few returned.
My brothers had gathered, silent as ghosts, their unearthly voices spun around the ocean like tendrils. Gnashing their pointed teeth and hissing. My gut twisted. They were gliding towards the girl now, licking chops and bickering over whom would have the first bite. She looked like an angel, innocent and beautiful. Her hair flowed around her like a dark halo. I inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of guilt set upon my shoulders. She would be another of many, drown and devoured. There was no dignity in a watery death. I heard a whisper in my ear, soft and subtle.
“Help.”
That drove me over the edge, I did what every fibre in my being my screaming against. I saved her.