We’re reaching the end of our time with lovely little Ciao, and I’m reaching the end of my cringing… Let’s just see what happens to her next.
thank you all for reading this: it means so much to both me and to 10-year-old L 😛
GOODYE: PART TEN
Thursday 10th January
Last night, I didn’t sleep at all. Even if I’d wanted sleep – which I didn’t – I wouldn’t have managed to get any. From the moment I discovered that I was on my own on this wood, I have felt vulnerable. Of course, there is nobody around but I feel that one moment of unctuousness could be the end of me. My death couldn’t be far off anyhow but I’d rather prolong my life as much as possible.
The one and only thing that I enjoyed overnight was the sight of the stars and the full moon. Never having seen them first-hand before, it was quite shocking to see them glowing above me like gems in the dark sky. The sea also calmed down at night and made a soft sound all around me. Several times I had to shake myself because the sound that the sea was making was sending me to sleep.
This morning, I hatched a plan to try and escape from my prison. That was how I’d begun to think of it now – my prison. I wasn’t chained up or locked behind bars but I certainly couldn’t escape. Not without some hard thinking at any rate. Overnight, a thought had come to me: I had expected the sea to move my plank about but instead, I hadn’t moved an inch. When the sun had risen and there was enough light to see by, I leant over the edge of my prison and felt underneath to see if there was anything there. Sure enough, a chain held me to the bottom of the sea – this must be what the sea folk call an anchor. In the olden days, there used to be a load of mechanisms to release the anchor however nowadays, you merely have to pull the anchor and you’re away. Carefully, I pulled on the chain. Immediately, a swishing sound came from underneath the boat along with lots of bubbles. The sound came closer and closer until, after about two minutes, a splash could be heard. Leaning over again, I grabbed hold of the chain and pulled it in. This way, I hoped to get the anchor to me and luckily my plan worked.
The next stage of my plan involved me waiting and the sea doing all of the work. This plan was risky – any number of things could go wrong. If it went right, the sea would push my plank of wood towards Brighton beach where I could get off and… and… well, do something. It was a warm day today therefore I closed my eyes, lay back on my makeshift boat and relaxed. Doing it this way ensured that I didn’t worry myself by knowing which way I was drifting. Soon enough, the rhythmic splashes of the water sent me into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
When I awoke, it must have been about midday judging by the angle of the sun. I was unwilling to look around me as the fear of my plan failing was too great. Despite this, I knew that at some point or other I would have to look and so I might as well get it out of the way now. Slowly, I looked around me, praying for the best but expecting the worst. My fears were correct. There was no land in sight from any angle at all. I must have been pushed the wrong way. My plan hadn’t worked – it had gone seriously wrong.
Spending no time on self-pity, I instantly started thinking of a solution to my problem. Nothing sprang to mind straight away although after a few minutes, one thing occurred to me. I could tell which way the current was pushing me – it was to my left – so why not jump off and swim to shore? At the time, I spent no time considering any alternatives; this to me was the perfect plan. Without further thought, I began to get ready for my escape. The backpack (which had been next to me on the wood) was slung over my shoulders. I wondered whether to bring the plank with me – just in case of emergency getaways – but I decided against it. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need it again and it would just be something extra to carry. Anyway, if I needed to escape, there were likely to be boats docked at the seaside which I could… borrow. I was rushing on the plank; the longer that I took preparing, the further that I would have to swim.
My mind turned towards which stroke I should use in my journey. Obviously, front crawl was out of the question; I’d keep getting sea salt in my eyes and I didn’t think that would be very pleasant. Also, if I got salt in my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to see which way to head. Backstroke seemed to be the best option – I would get minimal salt in my eyes and I could roll over and look around every ten minutes or so. Yes, backstroke would be my stroke, Ciao’s stroke.
I really now had one problem. When should I jump? No, let me rephrase that; saying it like that makes me feel like I’m about to commit suicide! Hang on, now there’s a thought. What if this is a suicide attempt? What if my subconscious is trying to kill me off slowly and painfully? Maybe it was the right thing to do though – my situation was unlikely to get any better however much I tried.
Now I’ve got you up to speed for today – now I’m quickly writing my diary before I set sail. Of course, I’m not taking my diary to sea – it is sure to be ruined – but I’ll leave it aboard this raft for anybody who might find it. It will give them some light reading just in case they forgot their copy of The Hobbit. Anyhow, if I die (which I now realise is undoubtedly my fate), sea folk might find my book and discover what really happened to me.
I’m standing up now, pen in hand, quickly scribbling down my last thoughts because I can’t stop now. I’m hanging on to life for as long as I can but I know that if I want a chance of freedom – a very, very slim chance – I must jump. I promise that I shall end it here. I wont put you, the reader, through any more of my pain.
I’ll prepare for the worst for I know that it is the fate that most likely awaits me. So, I’ll say it now. Goodbye world. Goodbye reader. Goodbye countryside and goodbye beaches. Goodbye city smells and goodbye gusts of wind. Goodbye cats, goodbye dogs, goodbye mice, goodbye rats and goodbye birds. Goodbye all. Goodbye. Goodbye.
L here again, with my last comment on this story.
Wow – that was dramatic! And what a finish, eh? Eh?
What a horrible child I was – killing off my protagonists and writing soppy, emotional speeches for them at the end, as they stand in the ocean somewhere off the coast of Brighton… Ah well ;-]