~The Sea Flier, Chapter One~
He began his new life curled in a ball in a sandy and damp space. There were things clumped up around him, but he could barely breathe and he couldn't move at all.
His rough feet against the sand; he felt everything all moving at one time and the whole space shaking. His head bumped the top which shook sand everywhere in the tiny space and made his hair full of sand and his eyes stung as the grains hit all over his face. He curled as hard as he could and closed his eyes tight just waiting for something else to happen.
It was completely and utterly silent but when he focused as hard as he could, he thought he could hear a rushing sound like waves over him. The space was burning hot, but at the same time cooling. He felt a sun burn on his shoulders which stung even more, thanks to the sand. He didn't know what else to do, so he thought through everything he knew.
My name is Peter, he thought
That... that was the only thing he could remember about anything. He knew given things like what sand was called and that his feet were attached to his legs and his hands attached to his arms, but he could not recall a family, a friend, or any relationship that he had possibly ever had. He thought about more things but only came across common knowledge such as the weather. He could tell you about the climate of London and... Where was London? What does it look like? What is it? That is where he came to a stopping point in his thought processes. Any time he thought more intensely on a certain thing, it became more distant.
Somehow, Peter knew that he was getting sea-sick, even though he was not rocking. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. The silence was violent and he could feel his eardrums beating harder and harder. Just as the thought they were about to pop, a blinding light hit him.
He yelled a terrifying cry as the space above him opened up and sand rained on him. He heard many noises and voices above him. Before he opened his eyes or even sat up, he tried to recognize voices to make his decision. He wasn't exactly sure what decision he was making, but he knew he had to think.
"Look at the dingus."
"How old is he?"
"Looks like a fairy in a T-shirt."
"You're the fairy, mud-face."
"Bro, it smells like feet down there!"
"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Beanie."
"Ain't no ticket back, dude."
Peter was dizzy from all the commotion at one time. He had no idea what was happening and did not understand one voice. He opened his eyes and the light was still making everything blurry, but things were coming to him. They were all boys and they looked like they were close to his age... which he had no idea of.
The container that he was inside of was very shallow and he simply stood up and stepped out. He look back into it and some of the other boys had already cleaned out the other things from it that were with him. He was in... a sand chest. A treasure chest like you would expect to find in a pirate movie. It was made of sand, it looked like, and it had washed up from the ocean.
How did I get in there, and where did it come from? Could it really have washed up from the ocean? Peter thought to himself.
He turned around and to his surprise, the boys had circled around him. As he started to look at each individual one, of the maybe ten or fifteen that stood there, one on his left started to talk. His words were clear as daylight which was peculiar because of his accent, which was a little redneck. "Nice to meet ya, dingus," the boy said. "Welcome to Forever Land."
His rough feet against the sand; he felt everything all moving at one time and the whole space shaking. His head bumped the top which shook sand everywhere in the tiny space and made his hair full of sand and his eyes stung as the grains hit all over his face. He curled as hard as he could and closed his eyes tight just waiting for something else to happen.
It was completely and utterly silent but when he focused as hard as he could, he thought he could hear a rushing sound like waves over him. The space was burning hot, but at the same time cooling. He felt a sun burn on his shoulders which stung even more, thanks to the sand. He didn't know what else to do, so he thought through everything he knew.
My name is Peter, he thought
That... that was the only thing he could remember about anything. He knew given things like what sand was called and that his feet were attached to his legs and his hands attached to his arms, but he could not recall a family, a friend, or any relationship that he had possibly ever had. He thought about more things but only came across common knowledge such as the weather. He could tell you about the climate of London and... Where was London? What does it look like? What is it? That is where he came to a stopping point in his thought processes. Any time he thought more intensely on a certain thing, it became more distant.
Somehow, Peter knew that he was getting sea-sick, even though he was not rocking. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. The silence was violent and he could feel his eardrums beating harder and harder. Just as the thought they were about to pop, a blinding light hit him.
He yelled a terrifying cry as the space above him opened up and sand rained on him. He heard many noises and voices above him. Before he opened his eyes or even sat up, he tried to recognize voices to make his decision. He wasn't exactly sure what decision he was making, but he knew he had to think.
"Look at the dingus."
"How old is he?"
"Looks like a fairy in a T-shirt."
"You're the fairy, mud-face."
"Bro, it smells like feet down there!"
"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Beanie."
"Ain't no ticket back, dude."
Peter was dizzy from all the commotion at one time. He had no idea what was happening and did not understand one voice. He opened his eyes and the light was still making everything blurry, but things were coming to him. They were all boys and they looked like they were close to his age... which he had no idea of.
The container that he was inside of was very shallow and he simply stood up and stepped out. He look back into it and some of the other boys had already cleaned out the other things from it that were with him. He was in... a sand chest. A treasure chest like you would expect to find in a pirate movie. It was made of sand, it looked like, and it had washed up from the ocean.
How did I get in there, and where did it come from? Could it really have washed up from the ocean? Peter thought to himself.
He turned around and to his surprise, the boys had circled around him. As he started to look at each individual one, of the maybe ten or fifteen that stood there, one on his left started to talk. His words were clear as daylight which was peculiar because of his accent, which was a little redneck. "Nice to meet ya, dingus," the boy said. "Welcome to Forever Land."
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