Water.
The meaningless symbols swirled around in Calypso's head, repeating over and over.
Drowning.
There was a sharp, tingling feeling in her nose. The sensation numbed, only to slowly envelope her whole, growing more extreme by the second.
Dying.
She started to gag. The piercing tingles were now waves of stabbing pain. She was on fire, the feeling only settling for a freezing sensation to take over. Her body movements felt extremely sluggish-
A distorted voice broke through the haze of pain. "I'm coming, hold on!"
Steady hands griped her underarms, gently yet forcefully pulling her out of Death's grasp. However, as soon as her head re-emerged, the crisp air rammed down her throat like an eruption of lava. More worthless symbols swarmed her mind.
Death? Safety? Punishment?
She was barely conscious as her saviour maneuvered their way through the chilly waters. The random whisper of "Stay with me!" and "You're gonna be okay." from her rescuer were the only indications of survival.
The gritty sand felt harsh against her dewy skin, as she was half-dragged to shore. Her body was still throbbing, but the unfamiliar sensations have disappeared.
Her saviour coughed, settling her into a sitting position and patting her back. "This is why I swim by myself."
"Thank you," she tried to say, only to let regurgitated water slip past her dry lips.
"Woah! Easy there, I don't want all the island's water on me!" Her saviour's undiscovered face was so close to her peripheral vision: she could faintly see wisps of their short, dark curls.
Suddenly, the world began to spin mercilessly, black spots dancing across her eyelids. Nausea left her stomach lurching. Her vision sputtered and dimmed, leaving her unconscious in a stranger's arms.
YOU ARE READING
The Island We Came From
RomanceMarkos Atlas is done with his typical everyday life. All he craves is a life away from the island with someone who cares about him. But he never expected to find a beautiful girl washed across the sandy banks behind his house. A girl who knows nothi...
