Every day, Alex would escape from the bullying and block out his constant muttering to sit by the spot where he’d last seen his father. He would hope to see Father’s plump face reflected in the water as he thought about him but memories faded just like Father had.
Alex’s frustration and anger delved deep into his lonely heart and showed him his last day with Father. Precious memories like this were ruined by his overreacting emotions. The psychiatrist had said that he should go to a place where he felt special every day. Well, this was it — the harbour.
On Alex’s birthday, he would venture there, waiting for Father to take him home. No matter how much he longed for this, he knew he’d never see him again. He always stayed until a recognisable high moon lingered in the sky — which was usually about 12 o’clock. This time he didn’t go back as he felt the need to stay. His brain didn’t fight the urge: it was like something was tugging him towards the water for some peculiar reason. He closed his eyes. A vision lit up his mind: a ship; a letter; moaning souls — as well as his father. He opened them. The ship — the one from the vision — appeared. As soon as he saw it, he fainted onto the cold, hard concrete.
*****
Awoken by an alarming thudding sound, Alex sat up, taking in the change of scenery. Cautiously, he turned around to see the rest of what appeared to be… the sea-bed! Questions, thoughts all filled his mind… as well as the vision.
Nervously, he closed his eyes to re-watch the puzzling images. Watching it again didn’t calm his mind; in fact, it made his head throb persistently and his eyes water. He looked down, trying to set his mind straight and answer his questions scientifically. But we all know there were no scientific answers! In the palm of his hand, he realised there was a sopping wet letter. It was addressed to Alex. Opening it carefully so as not to tear the fragile paper, he discovered the words, “…the ship, go!” It was from Father! Even more puzzled, he fainted again.
Almost drowning, he wisely decided to float to the top of the water. Where had the letter come from? Why was he down there? What did the vision mean? Enough! He realised he had to listen to the brief letter even if it wasn’t from Father as his life couldn’t get any worse… or could it?
Above the water, he gasped for fresh air then wondered how he’d stayed under water longer than one minute as he’d never been an excellent swimmer. Something strange had obviously happened that night but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
He looked around for something that might help him understand this weird phenomenon. To the right, he saw many people leaning over the barrier gaping at a vast cargo ship from the 1850s. As Alex looked at the immense crowd, he was struck to see that none of them were taken aback by this sight. The ship was clearly haunted: glowing rusted port-holes that every now and then revealed ghostly figures; the torn sails that imaged a haunting face; sudden bangs that shook the boat like a tsunami. Deciding to ignore these facts, he ventured towards the ladder that led to the rotting poop-deck.
The ship swayed and the pitter-patter of footsteps didn’t help when he reached the top. Like a radar, Alex picked up all the movement around him: spirits brushed against his sallow cheeks and phantoms shoved him as if to say, “Leave, you intruder!” Something about these eerie presences unsettled Alex, as it would anybody. Realising this was a bad idea, he ran to the ladder which he’d made his earlier entrance on. However, the ship thrust forward sending Alex sliding into what appeared to be a run-down storage room encasing a dark figure. Horror overtook his face as he tried to reach for the door.
“Alex!” called out the figure. “I thought I’d never see you again!” Alex didn’t recognise the man yet his voice comforted him. Uncovering his face from the dark hood freaked Alex out; it was Father!!! Alex spiralled onto his knees crying happy tears. Before he could recover…whoosh! Without warning, ‘Dad’ lunged forwards and inserted an odd-looking dagger in the heart of Alex! This was all so confusing. Alex cried out in horror and fell. He was dead. As this happened, a weird-looking glow flew out of his body. A soul. ‘Dad’ gulped it down and then stepped into Alex’s body like a suit. The squelching noises would make any unfortunate soul heave. He walked out of the room in his new skin…
Two moons later, ‘Alex’ sat grinning on his father’s bench with stitches running through the middle of his face and with one of his eyes gouged out. He was alive…
This is a very mysterious writing which is almost like a psychological thriller. You’ve created some really detailed characterisation here particularly for Alex. Well done!