Matthew Dewey
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Fighting the Tide

2/1/2019

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Fighting the Tide
​Water crashes like a skyscraper on a stormy day. However, once you have been stuck on a small island such as mine you get used to it. That night there was a storm that was fierce and the waves drew in close, crashing into palm tree now and then, but mainly the beach was belted with the massive waves. The wind is what did the most damage further in-land. The doors and walls rattled and creaked, which was again something I got used to having made most of my home out of squeaky bamboo and palm.
​Now here I lay, oblivious and deep in sleep as everything around me was swept up by the storm and scattered. When I woke up and looked out at the mess I only sighed once before making my way down the stairs to begin cleaning up. As always, after a huge storm there was not a cloud in the sky and a warm tropical sun filtered through the trees. I used this light to find everything that was missing and to be honest it wasn’t as bad as it looked. The only tremendous effect was one of the chair was stuck in a tree, but I had no trouble retrieving it.
As I climbed the tree I recalled the days where I was running from snakes that inhabited my small island, but I went on my own rampage after that exterminating each one. In doing so I let the bugs reign over the forest, but that too I handled with the right hand-made tools. The only thing I did not kill on the island completely were the birds. There were many wonderful birds that flew around the island, but there were these larger brown birds that I kept in cages in order to breed, grow and eventually eat. To this day I have no idea what they are called, but they can be very tasty when cooked in the right fish broth,
Once my island was back in order it was already sunset and I decided to watch the beauty of the sun from the shore. There I sat on another lounging chair in which to me was the best seat on the island. Still, there some strange curiosity on the horizon that my mind was having trouble pinning down. There, far beyond the small waves which yawned out at feet, was something dark, wide and tall.
It soon became too dark for me to make it out any more, but I was gripped by it. I decided to stay at the beach for the night, seeing the waters were too calm and a storm nowhere in sight. I returned to my small home and collected provisions; food and blankets. I sat there for seemed like days, staring at something that was drawing closer but never seemed like it. It was no surprised that I fell asleep with so little happening, but this sleep was so relaxing that I fell back into another one of my deep sleeps.
When I opened my eyes it was late in the morning and what I was staring at became all too clear. It was a tidal wave, but not the wave you are used to seeing. Most waves have a crest, but the tidal wave would not crest until there was a substantial amount of land beneath it. The wave was massive, frightening and all too powerful. I felt the fear that the common man felt when cornered in an alley. The thought of helplessness and what’s more, all that I had made and was would be washed away by this wave.
From the look of the wave I knew it would not collide with me immediately. I decided to return to my home and begin writing my farewell. I would store it in one of the water-bottles that washed ashore. I had a plan, but once I sat myself on that chair and held that charcoal I was overcome with pain and sadness. What could I write now? Nobody knew who I was and my story would matter so little to whoever found my farewell. I could not write anything in that moment that was of worth so I told myself the goodbye.
I opened my heart, revealed all my thoughts that I pushed to the back of my mind. I revealed the guilt that plagued me and I asked myself for forgiveness. There was no response for I could not in this moment and would die and an unfulfilled man. Accepting what I was I made my way back to shore and stood at the edge of the water. The tide licked at my feet as my doom approached.
I never experienced such silence in all my life. The ocean was surprisingly calm for what was about to happen. Once more I felt a pang of regret as I would not leave this world with a bang, but rather a whimper. The size of the water scared me immensely once it had come so close, but what scared me more was Death. He was someone I hope not to face. My fight for survival on this island kept me from meeting him this long after-all.
When all seemed to be lost the tidal wave parted smoothly, rolling around my island leaving me with a higher tide that rose to my knees, but soon returned to a shallow water that only kissed my toes. I watched as the tidal wave ran around the island and I ran with it. Once on the other-side of the island I saw the two waves return to their original state by running into each other. The two waves collided spectacularly and soon washed into nothing.
I believed at first it was a miracle, but better yet I saw it as an opportunity. I began writing, more than I ever have. I told my story in pages, each page with my co-ordinates logged and a bit of my story. All these pages were placed in bottles which I threw into the tide as it drew back into the sea. I wrote constantly for years and soon my messages reached people. Soon it reached people that could help me and soon after that it reached someone who would help me.
I was rescued from the island by the love of my life, someone who fell in love with the person behind my writing. On the 5th of December 2034 I was free of the home I built, but I left it happily knowing I would not be forgotten to the world, but remembered at least by one person to the end of their days.
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