The wind lashed at the boat, the waves pounded at the hull; a few more minutes like this and we would be sunk for sure. The wind tore at my hair. Salt water sprayed in my eyes, temporarily blinding me. I tugged at the rope with all my might, the rough, uneven weave tore my blistered hands open. I screamed at the top of my lungs, but the wind just blew it back at me. We were going down. Lightning split the sky with blinding brightness. Thunder boomed. The elements had one mission: to destroy us.

"Man the rudder! Down the hatches! Bring in the sail!" the Captain bellowed. I pulled the rope ferociously, every muscle in my wiry arms screamed with tension. Rain pelted my upturned face. Sleet came down in a heavy barrage.

"You there!" hollered the captain "get in the crows nest! Sight the light house or we're doomed." I crawled up the rigging; the wing like icy fingers began to pry my body off the ropes. I struggled. Gusts, torrents, hurricanes threw their force against me; each blast was like being hurtled against a brick wall. My fingers were stiff from the am tedious procedure: grab, clench, pull, grab, clench, pull… I was nearing the top. More dead than alive I slunk into the crows nest, a mere tiny barrel tacked to the side of the mast. I hung limply onto the side of the wall, like a babe clinging to its mother.
My eyes scanned the sea. It was nothing but waves, mountainous waves. I sat peering at the lurching, toppling, crashing water desperately searching for land. Hail began to plummet from the sky and strike me. Each a bullet inducing agony.


Suddenly, I saw it: the light, a beautiful light cutting through the hail and fog. I called out, but my words were shattered. The light streaked towards the ship in the form of a cruel bolt of lightning. It struck the mast and engulfed the whole ship in flames. I stared in horror at the fire creeping towards the crows nest, closer, closer, closer. The flames licked my heels. I leapt overboard. The rush of water roared around my ears, the waves closed over my head, crushing me into icy, suffocating darkness. The pressure seemed to cave in my skull. As water began to pour into my lungs, my legs struck a sand bank. I thrust the weight of my body hard against it and shot rapidly to the surface. My head broke through the waves choking and gasping for air, I thrashed towards a barely visible shore. I crawled up unto the wet scaly sand, and collapsed. I never got back up

________


A young man ran onto the beach. He had missed his shift at the lighthouse. He ran franticly towards the life house, but stopped short. There, a hundred yards from the shore, was the charred form of a ship smoldering and smoking. And stretched out on the sand was a small weather beaten figure, forever asleep in the gentle tide