The Sea Part 4: The Island

“Marina” he mumbled, hearing his voice as if in a distance. As if he had to collect the sound of his murmur back into his body. Dorian felt trillions of micro beads gripping to his skin.  The particles of sand have woke him back to physical sensations. Now he was certain that he was lying on the shores of the beach. “Marina”, he pronounced firmly this time.      


  Dorian flattered his eyelids open only to be blinded by brilliant rays. In an attempt to cover his face with his hand he fed himself the ocean. Whether from the salty flavor or from the memories of the horror that he has been a witness of and that flooded in like waves, he had to hurl the contents of his stomach. He tried to balance on his knees and look at the surroundings.


  The pounding headache made him squirm but his eyes have found focus at last. With his newfound vision, he saw paradise. In front of him were rows of trees like he has never seen before. The sand was white and he has only been to yellow shores prior. The birds sang soothing melodies. “I must have died”, he thought. “If I am dead, the others must be here too."


   He wobbled up to his feet and screamed the names of his fellow comrades: Dusk, Trevor, Morteriarty, … Captain! There was no answer. He paused for a moment trying to catch his breath. He was standing still his lungs were short of oxygen as if he ran a thousand miles. He called out the names once more, of those who he rubbed shoulders with for years. There was no call back yet again. He whistled, whistled until his inner whistle broke.


    His shuts his eyes with force until it hurt. Dorian fell back onto his knees and dug his knuckles in the sand. Oh how pristine this sand glowed. He whispers softly, “Marina”, his world and the reason for his existence. His father died before his eyes saw this world. His mother was sick for far too long and when she passed he was relieved for her. He swore that he lived for his sister now.


   He collected all that was left in him and screamed, “Marina!” He screamed her name a thousand times more. He ran back and forth along the island beach uncovering the most astonishing beauties of nature had to gift. The island had short cliffs that appeared mesmerizing and its birds of spectacular colors. The island looked especially out of this world at sunrise. Dorian must have been running back and forth along the beach for hours. He did not find a soul that day.


 Was it true? That he was washed onto this piece of land alone? Maybe, the ocean washed off the others onto a different part of this land. Maybe others woke up on a different island all together. What if they did not wake up today? What if all the people he held dear were sleeping at the bottom of the ocean?


 Could it be that his comrades and the little angel that made his soul sing was dead. The thought stung like a thousand arrows through the heart. It was torture worst than death. “Hell with it! Hell with living if life to me is handed and stripped away from those who truly do deserve.” Exhausted and famished he fell onto the sandy beach. He dug his fingers into his hair and pulled just so he could feel a different pain not the one that has settled in his heart.


   “Why did you lead me astray? I have prayed to you every night. I asked no more than for her life to be of matter. Do you even listen? Are you even there? What sort of twisted Father are you to let your children be devoured by Evils of the Earth? Is this your domain or Satan’s playground?”


    He questioned the All – Mighty until his eyelids could no longer hold gravity. Until he drifted into deep sleep . . .

Anastasiia Ryzhkova