[Burning Inside]: 233.Short Stories.Writting Competition#2

As my body lay dried up under the burning star in the morning sky, also known as the sun, I could feel my lips cracking, and my stomach burning inside. It was aching, waiting for a drop of water to do me over for at least a few seconds. However I only have that one drop of water, but if I don’t use it soon the sun would surely dry up that moist droplet, and leave me to die that second sooner then I wished for.

I find the fact that I am going to die, on a tropical island, surrounded by water, and fish, a little ironic. However, I know that even if I am surrounded by water, it won’t do anything except kill me off quicker, and the fish are no good to me unless they are cooked.

If I could make a fire I would be set, I would have water at my disposal, and plenty of fish, but I never learned how to make a fire. I always figured; lighter fluid and some burning paper surrounded by logs would work just as well.

Now I sit here, with a near to empty bottle of water, in my hand. It wasn’t even good water, it was the kind of water that you buy at a store, and it doesn’t taste nearly as good as normal water, but I would still love every droplet from the bottle.

My stomach growled, the ocean roared. Slowly I was dieing inside, I didn’t want to die of dehydration.

Quickly I raised the bottle to my mouth, but it seemed like that second took ten minutes. I could see everything happen as I waited for that drop.

My wrist; twist the bottle from near to sideways to straight up. Slowly my forearm; raise the bottle closer and closer towards my mouth. The hair that was sitting just in front of my eyes, blow to the side form a slight gust of wind that just passed by. The droplet of water gradually slides down the edge of the bottle, and onto my lips. It didn’t even make it into my mouth; instead the tip of my lip drained all of the moisture.

Crushing the bottle I threw it behind me, landing beside a crab that had just emerged itself.

Ripping my shirt off of my chest, I ran into the water, swallowing as much as I could in a single dive. Finding the biggest rock in the nearby area, I latched onto it; tying one sleeve around the rock, the other around myself. I am determined to drown myself; it would be better the dieing of dehydration.

© Steven Stewart, 2006