The harsh ocean lifted the small boat higher into the blistering night sky then Noah had ever experienced before. It was more pain than pleasure on this boat trip, nothing that any of the sailors could have possible imagined earlier that day. The seas were calm then, the water timid as it carefully caressed the boat. The sails were high, letting the smooth wind move it slowly along, making it's way closer to the destination. But what a turn of events. A few hours later, this had happened. The ocean was opening up to swallow them, and painic was thick in the air. Noah held onto the boat, wishing that his life didn't happen to end that night. What a mistake becoming a salior was. What was Noah thinking? Maybe it was because of all of the presure that his mother had put on him. Be a salior. Be noble. Make a life out of this mess. His mother's words ran through his head as he pressed his eyes closed, and let worry control his actions.
"Emerson!" Another sailor cried through the storm, his voice faint under the weight of the waves, "Life boat! Save yourself!"
Noah turned quickly, He knew who had called out to him; his dearest and closest of all the other sailors on the boat with him, Joesph Hamilton.
Noah pushed through the wind, careful to steady himself as the boat rocked violently underneither him, "Hamilton!" He cried, hope slowly dieing, "Hamilton! Please answer me!"
The truth set in quickly. His friends had died, and many more with him. And Noah himself would more then likely soon do the same, and follow Joesph down to the cold bottom of the ocean. Unless, that is, if Noah found the life boats. He could have a chance to save himself. Or, he could stay on the boat, and pray that it would not spring a leak.
Before he even had a chance to choose, he noticed how low the boat really was. Of course they were sinking! How could they possibly not be with all of the hatred the sea had fixed on them.
Noah's eyes scanned the deck. Life boat, I need a life boat! His memory shot back to his first day on the boat. Sea gulls chimmed in the air, swirlling around, eager to pick at any scraps of fish that were left baking in the early summer sun. He heard his captians voice ring with power once again, as he clearly remebered the directions to the life boats.
He took off, running although it wasn't the brightest thing he could have done. He lost his footing and feel onto the watery deck, quickly sliding to the edge of the boat, only a peice of thin, two foot high wood sperating him from the ignorant ocean. The boat tipped to it's side, and piles of rope, buckets, and fish came flying down with Noah.
The truth dawned on him quickly as he pushed a filleted fish off his face. The boat was turning completely upside down, and Noah would be caught under it. There would be no way of getting out from under it in time to live. Quickly whispering a pray, Noah blessed his mother, and prayed she would be okay after he was gone. He prayed she wouldn't morn too much, and promised her out loud that he would always be with her in spirit.
The ocean opened it's chilling jaws, fangs peircing Noah's body with a sharp burst in his lungs. He was under, and it all went black.
It was something that his eyes hadn't touched in such a long time. Or so it felt like it. Rolling onto his back, Noah started to cough violently. Water spewed out of his mouth, his lungs burning. Getting onto all fours, he started to throw up the contents of his stomach, mostly water, groaning as pain coursed through out his body. His legs ached, bleeding from various cuts all over. The deepest of his gashes was in his side, just below his ribs. His blood soaked shirt clung to it, making himself extremly uncomfortable. His arms were cut all around also, and a shard of wood stuck out of his left hand.
Noah sat down carefully, closing his eyes as he slowly removed the wood. He let out a bitter cry of pain, throwing the invader out onto the beach.
Looking into the clear sky, Noah whispered a pray, thanking God for sparing his life. It was a beautiful day, the only sound the absentminded waves that crashed the shore behind him. The beach he was on was beautiful; thick, silky sand, the colour of his hair; dirty-blonde. Deep orange crabs ran across, kicking up small bits everywhere as the moved, perfectly in time with each other. Beyond them, was a thick, heavily brushed forest, like none Noah had ever seen. It looked so dense, and started so suddenly on the beach, that it looked merely impossible to walk through.
"Where am I?" Noah asked himself, rubbing his cheeks with his hands. He closed his eyes, wishing that the scene in front of him would fade away and be replaced with a scene of his home. His little house on the shore of Newfoundland, where the Atlantic ocean licked the seaweed and rocks, and the break water was as deadly as the storm he had been caught in. He pictured the foggy morning he was so used to waking up to. I wonder if I will ever to be able to see that again... Noah thought, taking a few steps toward the forest. He stopped dead in his tracks, Where am I going? A frantic sense of painic rushed over his mind. Maybe he was better off dieing then this fate. A life of confusion, and bitter punishment, forced to walk the beach untill he died off, or he was found. Of course, the second option was very unlikely.
I need to sort my thoughts. Noah calmed himself slowly, taking deep breaths to center himself. Okay, I'll walk around, and try to find someone else. But who would be out here? In the middle of no where?