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By Amelia Y

Thunderous clouds, sliced by daggers of lightning, pelted rain onto the surface of the ship like a thousand piercing needles. I grasped hopelessly at anything to support me, before we all perished into the icy depths of the sea. My pounding heart was in my throat as immense fear paralysed my body.

The whole crew and I had been travelling for months avoiding countless wreckages and storms, yet I knew our luck had finally ceased. We were being picked off one by one; order unknown. The ship tossed and turned as the murderous waves played a dangerous game of catch. Ferocious winds clawed, ruthlessly stripping the sails and tearing apart the deck.

My ragged breath came in gasps as I watched helplessly at corpses, blue and battered like the waves, were flung off the ship and came to rest on their death beds on jagged rocks. I screamed at the cabin boy as he was dragged under by the merciless waters that choked on seaweed and vomited foam. It was too late. Nothing could stop this black world of destruction from engulfing us into a watery grave. Was this the end? I put my torn hands together, the skin ripped from the endless scramble to find something to cling onto, I prayed.

My head pounded, my body ached, the surrendering cries of lost sailors ringing in my ears. Hacking and retching until I could barely breathe, I collapsed into an exhausted heap. My heart was hammering and my lungs were burning as I peered at my frail body. My shredded clothes clung onto bruised skin, droplets of blood seeping through cuts. I was alive and there was hope. I cautiously sat up, the waves lashing at the rocks, hurling ship remains.

Determined to find other survivors, I stood unsteadily and with increasing pain, I started to climb. My hands and feet dug into every crevice of the rocks. I clambered up until I reached the top and saw other survivors in the distance. Soaked and fatigued, hauling themselves onto the perilous rocks and shore, away from the tragedies of the sea.

I could taste the sea on my lips, the wind blowing through my matted hair. I could see screeching seagulls circling above as a crack appeared in the gloomy, grey sky. A sliver of blue in the distance. That was God's calling. If I followed, maybe it would lead me to......

"Lucy, come on. You've been staring at that painting for ages. Let's go to the gift shop."

My sister's voice brought me back to reality, I glanced at the painting in front of me and read the sign: A Shipwreck in Stormy Seas by Claude-Joseph Vernet.

"I'm coming." I call, sneaking a last glimpse at the picture as I walk away.