Fire, water, and wind worked in perfect harmony to provide as much chaos and destruction as they possibly could. Wood littered the water as the ship was torn apart. With every plank that fell a memory was ripped from his heart. “Noooooooo!” he screamed, as his blue eyes, filled with tears, watched as the place he knew as home burned and sank into the dark ocean. Where were his parents and the crew, the people who raised him? Did they not make it off the ship? “Momma!!! Papa!!!!” he yelled, but it would not be heard through the storm. Wave after wave crashed into the ship from all directions, keeping it from regaining strength and balance. Wind broke every mast and tore every sail, whistling an eerie tune as it destroyed the ship. Lightning constantly struck, causing flames to dance around the ship to the tune of the wind and even the waves could not quench it. “I’m going to die,” thought the boy, as he frantically tried to stay afloat.

  The sinking ship became more and more difficult to see as the blue-eyed child bobbed up and down from a distance, clinging to the largest piece of wood he could find. Looking up, he saw the largest wave yet, roaring and rising toward the ship. He screamed as the wave overtook his home, plunging it into the darkness. In the wave were two crimson lights that glowed like eyes and disappeared beneath the wave, just as quickly as the ship did. In the distance the child heard a shout, “Live Torrent”, then everything faded into darkness.

  Torrent sprang out of bed in sheer panic! He was drenched in sweat and his heart was beating to the point of exploding out of his chest. “I must have been dreaming again,” Torrent said to himself, remembering that horrific night five years ago, or at least he thinks it was five years ago. The hours, days, and years have been a blur. The only real concept of time he had was when the sun would rise and set or when trade ships would sail past the island. But that wasn’t very often and the ships never came to shore.

  Torrent was a scrappy twelve-year-old boy with eyes as blue as the ocean. He had an average build that was weathered from living on an island for five years. His hair was reddish brown and messy all the time. His arms seemed too long for his average-sized body and he hoped he would grow into them soon. Freckles were sprinkled on his nose and cheeks and his clothes were made from the torn sails that washed up on the island.

  As he looked around, he could see the sun rising right in front of him. Yellows and oranges and blues painted right over the ocean. Color and light work together to bring about a new day. The reflection on the ocean seemed to amplify the colors and Torrent couldn’t take his eyes off of it. “That sight never gets old,” Torrent said, getting out of the bed he made from leaves he gathered from the island. He walked toward the front of the shelter he made and paused mid-stride. As the sun rose the colors changed and Torrent saw a deep red above the ocean. As he stared he remembered the eyes that were in the wave the night of the shipwreck. “I really hate that dream,” Torrent mumbled, recalling the many times he had had that same one. Today will be a good day, he thought, trying to think of anything other than that awful memory five years ago. Torrent resumed his stride and walked toward the beach ready for today’s adventure.

  It was still pretty early and Torrent was getting hungry. There is something about having a nightmare and walking along the ocean that just makes a boy hungry. He walked back up the beach toward the jungle and into the shelter he made. His shelter was a masterpiece in his eyes. It was made of debris he gathered from the shipwreck mixed with large palm leaves and anything else he could find. It had a large opening in the front and a small window to the back, so he could keep an eye out for danger. Torrent found that being close to the beach kept animals away that lived deeper in the jungle. He wasn’t sure why, but he thought it had something to do with the greenish sea foam that washes up in the evening tide.

  Torrent rummaged around the shelter looking for his stash of mangos and finally found one, his last one. He peeled it using a sharp rock he found, knowing he needed to search for more food today. When he finished his mango, he picked up the sack he made from a torn sail and started walking toward the jungle. He knew that if he left now he could be at the mango grove by midday for it was on the other side of the island. “Maybe it wouldn’t take so long if my legs caught up with my arms!” torrent shouted as he laughed about his frustration. He continued down the path that naturally formed after walking it for 5 years. As he walked, he started to sing a song his parents sang, this kept him from getting too lonely.

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  “Ohhhhhh in the ocean, down below the surface

  Is a mighty darkness, ready to destroy us.

  Light will come from the shore.

  Bringing victory to us once more

  What a day that will be

  Keepin' us sailing on the sea”

  Torrent didn’t know why his parents and the crew sang this song, but they would sing it every night as they sailed. They would tell him,” This song has been passed down through our family. It gives us hope.” Hope didn’t get us anywhere, Torrent thought as he continued down the path.

  He finally reached the grove of mango trees. Exhausted from walking, he decided to rest before he gathered food for the next few days. The sun was hot that day shining into the grove where Torrent sat. “That’s enough,” he said, getting up from his short break. Torrent gathered all the mangos he needed and decided to journey back. He dreaded the walk back but needed to get started or he would be walking in the jungle at night. He hoisted the sack on his back and headed down the path singing the same hopeless song.

  “Ohhhhhh in the ocean, down below the surface

  Is a mighty darkness, ready to destroy us.

  Light will come from the shore.

  Bringing victory to us once more

  What a day that will be

  Keepin' us sailing on the sea”

  The sun started to set. Pinks, yellows, and oranges streaked through the trees. At this rate, it would be night before he got back. Slight worry started to set in and he started to run. Racing against the darkness was something Torrent was used to. He often pushed the limits of his bravery, refusing to be scared like that day all those years ago. With his senses on high alert, he ran through the jungle. Faster and faster until he saw the opening in the tree line. He made it. Throwing his sack down he fell to the sand, trying to relax as he gazed at the full moon over the ocean. Torrent could see almost as good as when the sun was out, because of the moon’s brightness. The air was cool as it blew his messy hair. Foam was starting to come to the shore with the tide and appeared to glow green under the moonlight. This was the most relaxed he had been all day.

  It was now getting late, the full moon was high in the sky and only the sound of the waves crashing on the sand could be heard. Torrent felt a sudden shift in the wind that seemed odd for this hour. He stood up gazing along the ocean and walked back to the shelter thinking nothing of it. He got in his bed made from large leaves from a plant he didn’t know. The grass he harvested served as a cushion beneath him. It was quite comfortable. Before he was on the island the only bed he knew was a swinging hammock on a ship that rocked in the nighttime waves. At least here he was still. Torrent closed his eyes preparing himself for another nightmare and fell asleep.

  Seagulls squawked, piercing the morning air as they flew over the ocean. Gentle waves decorated the beach leaving small shells behind with every crash. The morning was here. Torrent rubbed his eyes with both hands trying to shake the heaviness that he felt from the first good night’s sleep he had in a while. The sun was extra bright this morning as Torrent squinted grabbing for a mango to eat. Today felt different, for some reason. Deep inside him, there was an anticipation, but for what he did not know. Leaving his shelter, Torrent started to walk toward the ocean. When he didn’t have to gather food, he liked to see if the ocean gifted him anything from the vast depth of its treasures. Still to this day, he finds wreckage from the ship he once knew. It was so hard to tell since he was only seven years old at the time of the shipwreck.

  The water was cool as he walked where the waves would rise and fall over his feet. Like the ocean was dancing up and down the shore. The prints he was leaving behind didn’t last long as he searched for items along the beach. “Finally!”, Torrent exclaimed as he reached down to find a curious object. He picked up what seemed to be a shark tooth, only it was larger than any he had ever seen. When he held it, it almost covered the palm of his hand. It was about as heavy as a coconut and smooth as glass. The edges were serrated and sharp. This will be perfect for peeling mangos, he thought, as his stomach growled, remembering he never ate the mango he grabbed this morning. Torrent clutched the shark tooth in his hands and turned back down the beach.

  As he turned the corner to the beach in front of his shelter he saw a ship anchored not far from the shore! “People!” he shouted, as he ran towards his shelter. As Torrent ran his heart started to beat faster and faster. His mind was racing even faster than his feet were moving. “Will they be nice? Am I in danger? He wondered, trying to not let worry overcome his excitement. He arrived at the shelter just as the ship was lowering a rowboat to come ashore. Now for the longest minutes of his life, waiting to see people for the first time in 5 years.