Untitled (short story)

He felt his foot being buried inside the wooden deck, that was covered by the swarms of people waiting get off the same wooden, musty ship that they had been for several months. Pushing, and shoving was the only way he made it to the port of the ship. Then, he put his arm out, and let the misty brine cover his arms, then face. It was a cool, brisk wind that flushed into his face as he put it out towards the water. Distinctly, he could see a small grey lump far ahead. That was impressive, considering the amount of fog that had settled near the ship. Many, many days it had been that he had been stuck on the same piece of wood that was not big enough to hold half the amount of people that had settled on. Disease had started to catch on, but he was a lucky fellow, and continued to pray he wouldn't catch it.

The sun was a bleached circle in the sky now, surrounded by the dark, dingy clouds that surrounded. There had been few days where the sunlight had come to the boat. They had left when the third season had just ended. At the moment, they were at the worst possible season to be in while on a ship.

Waves crashed against the front, rear, and sides of the ship, but it wouldn't collapse. While it was a piece of wood to him, it was still quite durable and sturdy. It was called Old Cross, and had a wooden cross implanted on the front of it.

The harsh, bitter weather was now getting to him, so he retreated back into the center of the ship. It was a great deal warmer inside than out, since there were mobs of folks down there as well as up on board, and the body heat was great. However, the body heat was not strong enough to make the coldness disappear. He sat next to a fireplace, and put his hands in front, hoping to catch some of the burning heat emitted from the fire. The fire made him drowsy, and as so, he soon fell asleep.

"Last call to leave the ship!" he heard as his eyes snapped open. The room was empty. It was time to get off the ship, and he was about to be the last one on.

Quickly, he sprinted towards the exit, his hair blocking his vision. Sweat rolled down his red cheeks, and as the man was about to close the door, he jumped and made it out... on the dock. His arms and knees were covered in scrapes, bruises, and blood, but it didn't hurt massively, so he ignored it. Slowly, he made his way up, and was about to fall back, but caught the wooden railing which itself was crumbling and soon wouldn't support a child.

He blinked a few times and was definitely surprised. It was nothing like what he had seen from at sea. The clouds had vanished, and there was the sun staring at him. All of the clouds were gone, and the sky wasn't gray anymore; instead it was a bright blue. A wide mountain range surrounded the area he was in. They were tremendous, and had snow at the top peaks. He ran to the start of the dock and saw trees. What was surprising was that there weren't any people that he had seen. He skipped along, looking around for a person to tell him where the city was located. A slow, calm river flowed in front of him, and he used the stones to step over to get to the other side. He was in some sort of forest. This was nothing like he had imagined. It seemed like it was in the third, and warmest season that he was in. The climate was much warmer than at sea. He steadied himself upon a rock and sat for a while. Just for a while.

He then dug into his pocket and pulled out his most valuable possessions. Two shillings, a compass, and a locket given to him by his mother. The items had all began to rust a little, but he still kept them close, and protected them like family.

He rubbed the cold, wet metal on the shilling. It shone brightly in the sunlight. His compass seemed to have been defected, as it was now spinning around in all directions. He shoved it back into his pocket. Then, he snapped open the golden locket that had the paper inside. The message which he had only seen once.

The sounds of birds chirping, and the river flowing made him feel happy, and tranquil. But there was a sound that had disrupted his calmness. A scream. An ear piercing scream that could be heard from a mile away. It seem to come from behind him. Again, he began running, but this time in the opposite direction; the one he had come from. It took him about five minutes to jog back. As he looked back at sea, the clouds had returned, and so had the fog. His ship was gone but there was another one on the horizon.

It was being overtaken by the waves, with the waves crashing against the wood, and making holes in the sides. He gasped, and kept on watching. Suddenly, a huge tidal wave came over and wiped out the back of the ship, and it separated from the other half. It sunk miserably into the depths of the sea. The other half was struggling to keep on the surface but was still already dead in his eyes. And just before it was about to sink, he saw something at the front of the ship. It was a wooden cross, and above it were the words Old Cross.