The Odyssey of a Shipwreck by Sophia Nicole C. Dayao
Gunshots, screaming, then frantic footsteps trample the deck above our heads. The cabin’s door flies open to reveal the god responsible for the death of the rest of the world.
He’s found us, and we must be the last ones alive.
A three-word whisper as the metal barrel comes eye to eye with my companion. A deafening bang and he topples over, taking me with him. And then, the Earth falls into darkness.
The Helios is sailing on the Pacific Ocean—or so the planet’s people called it. It’s not so much an ocean now, just a seemingly endless body of dead water with occasional carcasses and shipwrecks to block the way.
Though still heavy with sleep, I trudge my feet across the soggy wooden planks of the Helios. Its sail is tattered, half of the deck is missing its walls, and a gaping hole is in place of the ship’s helm.
In other words, my home is now a shipwreck.
I watch as a silhouette forms north, growing darker and more prominent in front of the pinks and blues of the early sunrise as it slowly hooks my ship on a rope and quietly tugs me toward its shore. I make my way up to the crow’s nest and wait.
And wait, and wait.
The sun is shining high and bright above me by the time the ship gets stuck on the sand of what I now realize is an isle. I disembark, careful to avoid the sharp wooden edges on my way down, and land safely on my feet.
Oh. I’m standing on the corpse of a stingray.
Or a baby whale, or a dolphin—how am I supposed to know when all that’s left of it is a skeleton and some rotten flesh. It isn’t anything new—it would actually be more uncommon to run into something alive now. I look around and take in the first new place I’ve seen since that day.
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