Eye Of The Storm

The following is a story I originally wrote for a creative writing class at Ball State. I edited it to reflect an evolution of my own style per se as this was likely written sometime between my freshman and sophomore year (though if this year I believe pre-pandemic). Please enjoy.

Lyra slept in the hold, her favorite place to sleep. The rest of the crew of the S.S. Verity found this weird, but she always argued that it was originally planned as the crew quarters, so the singular bed in the stern should get some use. The rest of them argued the rocking was just too much, but Lyra found the rocking of the waves to be helpful falling asleep. Also, the window above the bed let just enough sun in that she could read if she wanted to. Suddenly a huge wave jolted her awake. 

"That's odd", she thought. That was not a wave that would lull someone to sleep. She hears the door of the hold thrown open and someone grunting as he or she meanders the way back to where Lyra. Then she sees the 5'11, muscular form of her brother Gideon, the first mate, drenched and smelling of the ocean. "What the heck are they doing up there?," Lyra muses.

"Lyra, get to the deck now," says Gideon. 

"Why?" she asks.

"We need you."

"For what?"

"Just come up to the deck", says Gideon exasperated, giving her one of his "i'm first mate and your older brother" looks

"Not, until you tell me why I am needed."

"Stop being stubborn, and get up to the deck," yells Gideon. 

"Ok", she says, "You don't have to yell".

She can feel the wind whipping as she steps on to the deck. Isadora (who Gideon refuses to admit he has eyes for, but who wouldn't have eye for a girl who can stil somehow pin a guy twice her size to the ground with a unrelenting fire in her brown eye) grabs her and pulls to help batten down the sail. 

"When did this start?” she tries to yell over the wind.

"Just a minute ago," Isadora yells back, trying to keep her curly brown hair from blocking her vision.  

"a minute ago? Really Isadora, it got this bad that quickly?" Lyra asks.

"You and your preciseness, Lyra, focus on steadying the sail..." Isadora's voice trails off as, suddenly, a wave almost makes Lyra loses her balance, but arms catch her. 

"Hello, Captain", says Lyra.

"Hi Lyra, a little seagull told me someone was being a little stubborn coming up from the hold," says Triton, her other brother and the Captain of the S.S. Verity.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know a storm was brewing above deck," She snaps back, her green eyes alight with frustration.

"Woah snapping turtle, I was only teasing. But you should try to be more cooperative. You and Gideon need to stop with all this sibling rivalry stuff," Triton says.

"Sibling rivalry?  Gideon and I do not have a sibling rivalry," Lyra retorts.

Triton remains silent, and Lyra knows why, her and Gideon's squabbling gets on Triton's nerves; Triton starts to walks away. Then a wave, rocks the ship almost knocking Triton, Isadora, and Lyra off balance.

Lyra gazes up to the crow's nest. Gideon stands there watching the storm, astounded. Then a wave smacks against the ship. The wind seems to be getting stronger, 100 miles per hour at least Could it be a hurricane?

The rain comes down in torrents. It soaks everyone's clothes straight through. It comes down an endless downpour bound and determined never to stop. It's getting harder to hold the rope steady.

Another wave hits the ship. Everyone almost loses their balance. Lyra hears her brothers shouting to each other. 

Another wave hits the ship. Something like shattering glass sounds.

"The hold is filling with water," yells someone. 

The ship is sinking. Yet among the pouring rain and battering waves Lyra thinks she smells tropical fruit. Suddenly, a wave as tall as the empire state building engulfs the ship. Nothing can be seen. The world turns out the lights. 

Harsh lights burn Lyra's eyes. When did the sun become so bright? She feels something grainy against her skin, sand. She sits up and looks around at endless swatch of coconut trees. Not too far away from her she sees the sail lying on the sand. Waves are calm again and the sky shows no signs of rain with fluffy white clouds drifting by. The sail lies tattered, probably unsalvageable on the edge of the beach. The sea took her wrath out on the ship and stranded them. Now will she bring them rescuers? Lyra's not sure. She stands, wipes the sand from her clothes, and goes to gather coconuts.