Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 - 2 | Page 213

“There’s no more cannonballs! What should we do?”, a sailor cried. Aaron was trying hard to stay alive, and
almost got sliced by a blade. As fast as a jaguar, a pirate caught up with him. Aaron saw that there was a
crossbow lying on the floor, so he picked it up, and shot an arrow straight at the pirate’s face. The pirate
howled in pain, and staggered away.
Even though the sailors had the high ground, and were more experienced, the pirates outnumbered them 10
to 3, and with a bit of luck, they took over the whole entire ship. There was no way to win. But… there
was one way to survive: escape. Without even thinking, Aaron plunged into the cold, icy water 5 meters
below…
Soon, Aaron was on a a beach, the yellow sand sparkling under him. He stood up groaning. In the
distance, he could make out the outline of a ship burning. His ship. He felt anger turning into rage, and
then before he knew it, he was stumbling into the forest of the island he was on. There it sat, a little shack.
Its windows were cracked, its appearance similar to a horror movies setting.
Aaron trekked over to the house, inspecting it. He then, saw, with lurch in his stomach, a figure trudging
towards him. The figure was a pirate. He laughed. “Looks like you’re stranded here!” he stated. Then, he
walked away.