Some random Ideas that pop into my head as I write. I have some messed up stuff in there so, don't expect anything.
I stared, confused, at the poster on the ship.
"That's where we're going?" I asked.
"Yes." My mother replied. "The most wonderful island in the world!"
I was still extremely confused. On the poster, the island looked like a giant sponge, suspended in the middle of the ocean! The whole island, a kilometer long, had no buildings except a small hut that lay on the edge of the island. The dock was simply a plank sticking out of the side of the island.
The boat arrived at the island, and the poster picture was true. We were vacationing on a giant sponge. A man (most likely a tour guide) greeted us with a traffic cone on his head. He also held his hand over his mouth as he spoke, making his voice incredibly muffled, but understandable.
"Welcome to Allison's Island!" He said, smiling as he removed his hand from his mouth. I also noticed he had small purple ovals next to his eyes, and his eyes looked like little blue rocks. Covering his mouth again he said, "I hope you find our suites to your liking."
I exchanged confused glances with my mother.
"And where, exactly, are the suites?" my mother asked.
"Oh come with me, come with me, come with me, come, come, come!" He said again covering his mouth. He seemed so strange, droning on like that. He walked to a place, that seemed extremely random to me, and shoved his hands into the ground. He yanked up a square of sponge as large as him, and there was an underground room, complete with windows, showing the underwater world.
"Wow." Was all I could say. "Wow."
I slid slowly into the room, and examined the exquisite furniture.
"Just..." The man says sternly. "Don't come out at noon."
I wondered, as he walked away, what he didn't want us to see. Well I was going to see, and a crazy tourist guide who wore a traffic cone on his head wasn't going to stop me.
I glanced at my watch. 11:58. Two minutes. I climbed out of the suite with my mother by my side, and stood, scouring the landscape for a being. I spotted the tour guide, who ran over to me.
"Quick! Back in the ground! Now! Now! Now!"
I shook my head. "No. I need to see what you're talking about."
"Something. Very. Terrible." He said shaking his head. "You should've stayed down. Should've stayed down."
Slowly, people began to climb out of their underground dwellings, all clad in traffic cones, and with spots near their eyes. They all slid the cones off their heads, revealing small purple, earlike things... They proceeded to the edge of the island, large strides, all humming an eerie melody. They kneeled down, and dived into the water. A few minutes later, they came up to the surface with sponge from the sea and climbed up on the surface. They opened their mouths and instead of tongues-tape pieces stuck out, and I watched as they plucked tape from their mouths and taped to sponge to the edge of the island, and the sponge became perfectly bonded to the island.
The people seemed to come out of their dazes and walk calmly back to their living-places. The tourist guide came back to us.
"You see," He started. "we don't get tourists often. And now you've seen us in true form. Seen too much. You must leave."
And felt lighter, and looked down at myself as I-