The Feral Mate

Chapter 1: Amelia I remember the cold when we hit the water. A flash of lightning illuminated the fear on my mother’s face. I still have dreams about my father’s desperate grip on both of us in the open ocean. I don’t know exactly how long we drifted for. Our boxy life jackets squeaked against each other like mice in a hurricane. I only know that one minute I had my scrawny nine-year-old arms around my father’s neck, and then the next minute I was choking on the sea. Alone. I screamed for my mother. My eyes stung as fearful tears mixed with salt water. I honestly don’t know if my memory of their voices calling back to me is real. It doesn’t seem plausible, what with the wind roaring around me and my own deafening cries. Still, the sound of them floating away haunts me every time there’s a storm. Amelia! Time once again evaded me as I rode the unrelenting swells like the world’s worst roller coaster. Salt and vomit burned my throat as I was thrown under the merciless waves. When I emerged, I noticed that I was able to see much better than before. “Is it finally dawn?” I wondered. The answer was even better. It was the full moon, at long last shining out between the thick storm clouds. I was no longer alone, the Goddess was with me. Or at least, that's how it felt in my nine-year-old heart. Nowadays, I’m not so sure. “Please Goddess, I don’t want to die. Let me live. Let me find my parents,” I prayed. Until then, I had mostly prayed to the Goddess for dumb things, like getting ice cream after school or marrying a prince. However, just like every prayer before, I received no answer. Instead, I continued to undulate amongst the waves, thankfully without submerging as much due to the moonlight giving me the ability to brace myself for each onslaught. I gripped my too-big life vest to me and kept my eyes on the moon, still silently pleading to the Goddess for my life. My lunar-gazing was most likely the reason I hadn’t spotted the island until I was about 400 yards from it. The first gray light of dawn had broken by the time I saw my haven and began to swim furiously for it. Looking back, it was a miracle that all my thrashing hadn't attracted any sharks. I would later learn that they were everywhere, and they were vicious. I washed up on the powder soft beach, crawled a few feet and laid on my stomach in the warm sand. I don’t know how long I fell asleep for, but when I woke up the sun was high in the sky. I removed my bulky orange life vest and took in my surroundings. It looked like something out of one of my parents' travel brochures. Electric blue water met a white sand beach that stretched for miles on either side of me. A dense tropical jungle pushed up against the sand and I couldn’t tell how far back the wilderness went. “Hello?” I called out. I left my life jacket where it was, picked a direction, and began to wander the beach. My shoes were lost to the waves, but my clothes were dry thanks to my nap in the sun. I had a sunburn. I took a steadying breath in an attempt to ready my already sore throat and began crying out for help in earnest. I walked the beach for hours, my shouts only reaching the local birds and small wild pigs who scattered at the sound of my voice. I didn’t give up, even when the sun began to sink beneath the blue horizon. A bright moon lit my path as I continued my search. I sent more prayers to the Moon Goddess, this time joined with promises from me to be a very good girl, and never give my parents a hard time ever again. All I wanted was for them to be okay, and for all of us to be together. A yell died in my throat when I spotted it. My vibrant orange life vest lay a few feet from me in the sand, right where I left it. I had circled what I now knew to be an island. Not the mainland. Just some remote speck of dirt in the ocean. No packs to run to, or people of any kind to ask for help. I spent that first night sobbing, arms clutching my life vest and eyes fixed on the sky. Despite my pleas, I was truly alone.