Isolation by Virginia Andersen

Virginia Andersen, Blueprint Staff


It was too loud. Too much, too fast. The fog that covered my brain lifted all at once and the noise pushed itself into my head. I tried to cover my ears but I couldn’t move my arms. They seemed to weigh thousands of pounds yet be light as feathers. I didn’t want to open my eyes, I didn’t want to know what was making that horrible ringing noise. It was too much.

And then it stopped. This time I did open my eyes. I shut them quickly after the brightest light assaulted my eyes. Why was it so bright? Where did that noise go?

I moved my fingers and felt something soft below me. Soft and squishy. And wet. I curled my hand into a fist, grabbing onto what was below me and squeezed. Whatever it was fell between my fingers. I moved my feet and found them to be wet, and itchy. I wanted to open my eyes again, to figure out where I was. But that light. God that light. I didn’t think I would ever be able to open my eyes after seeing that.

A softer noise had replaced the loud ringing. I recognized the noise but couldn’t figure out why. It was so familiar. Why couldn’t I figure it out?

I lifted my head slightly and cracked open my eyes. The light wasn’t as blinding as before. The scene before me didn’t seem real. Water, endless water.

I opened my eyes fully and sat up completely, a pain in my head making me nauseous. The soft thing below me was sand. So much sand. Where the hell was I?

The waves crashing at my feet were warm and calm. Nothing like the waves that night.


I shot to my feet, ignoring the pain in my body and spinning around. What happened? Where was she? Where was I?

I started walking down the beach and calling out for her, for anyone. It couldn’t have been more than an hour before I was back at the place where I had woken. An island. In the middle of the ocean. I was going to die.

I don’t remember sitting but the next moment I was in the sand, my feet buried as I cried into my hands. There was no one else. Everyone on that ship had died. I tried to save them. I really did. But how could you save people who thought they were invincible.

Pirates, I thought.

If they hadn’t been so full of themselves they could have helped save some of us. It was their fault we were on that ship in the first place. If they had just left our ship alone.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. I wanted to hit something. But what was the point? Why put my energy into that when I knew I was just going to die?

I was alone on some island while my mother most likely lay at the bottom of the ocean with the pirates who had taken us prisoner.

I screamed and screamed, my voice leaving me after a while. That didn’t stop me from screaming some more, the hoarseness of my voice making me sound like a wounded animal. I didn’t stop screaming until night had fallen and the world grew quiet. Even the waves new to settle. I stood on shaking legs before walking out into the surf. The water was above my head in moments. I sucked it in, letting my dress drag me down until only the dark stood with me. Until I was no more.