Storytelling project

 I sat on the lukewarm morning sand that had not yet been warmed by the afternoon sun. I sat and relaxed as the first few rays of morning light breached through the barrier of darkness. Something, however, made me feel uneasy. Don't get me wrong, my life is great. I live on a small island in the Western sea. When I was very young my mother died from what my father tells me was an illness. After she passed, my dad packed us up and moved us to this island. My mother came from a rich family and my dad ended up inheriting it all when she died.

The island that we live on is no more than 15 miles across, and has one small village that gets supplies weekly from some of the bigger surrounding islands. I was homeschooled till I was 18, and now I just help my dad out with chores around our property. We own a good portion of the island (about a third) and are essentially self-sustaining. We have chickens, 1 cow, and a large garden that we grow vegetables and citrus in.

My thought was suddenly broken when I heard somebody calling out my name “Leon! Leon! Come get your breakfast!” My Dad was calling me. I went inside to find a plate with two eggs, half an orange, and some buttered toast on it.

“Eat up” said my Dad “We have a long day ahead of us”.
Normally those words would bring me a small amount of dread, but today was different.

Although our island is small, it is home to a yearly festival that brings in merchants, and sailors from all over who are looking to trade the treasures that they had accumulated over the last year of adventures. My Dad and I are festival hosts and spend the week working booth to booth, as well as with the villagers to help keep the festival going smoothly. This year in particular had me extra excited, as my Dad was predicting that this year's festival would be the biggest ever.

We made our way to town and began setting up. As I was working I heard a shout come my way

“Aye Leon, Good morning!”.

The familiar voice turned my head quickly and I saw my friend Jimmy walking towards me. Jimmy was the only boy in the village that was the same age as me, so naturally we quickly became best friends when I moved to the Island.

“Who is this tent for?” asked Jimmy.
I replied saying “My Father told me to set up a few extra tents this year because he heard

that a new merchant guild would be attending the festival”.
“What is the merchant guilds name?” Jimmy replied in a nonchalant way

“I am not sure, I never asked my Dad”

Our conversation progressed into small talk, and then Jimmy shifted into helping me set up. We ended up spending the whole day pitching tents, and building booths. At the end of it all I was so tired that I could not think straight. I walked back home with my Dad and we went to sleep knowing that the festival would begin the next morning.

When I woke up I went to sit on the beach like I normally do and saw merchant ships sailing into our port. I did not have much time to relax, as I knew I had to start making my way over to the festival. When I got there I was not surprised to see my Dad already working the port collecting festival fees

“The cost to buy a booth is 1000 shells” sated my Dad in a serious but respectful tone

I suppose I should explain how the festival works. As I already stated, Merchants and sailors come from all over to sell and trade with each other on our island. Any group is welcome to participate, but they have to pay a fee to do so. Shells are the main form of currency used in our world, so it's the only form of payment that we accept. Once a group or guild has paid, they have access to a booth, and a tent. A booth is where merchants will set up goods for commerce, and tents are where they can sleep for the week (if they don't want to stay on their ship).

My Dad's job is to work the port and collect festival fees. He also works as a moderator between festival guests, and the villagers. I do most of the grunt work. I provide refreshments,

repair broken booths and tents, and am the general complaint department. Jimmy also helps me with these tasks.

A few hours into the festival I noticed the extra tents that I had set up were still empty. I found my Dad and asked

“Is the new merchant guild not coming? If so I should start taking down the extra..”
Before I could finish my sentence I noticed a small black vessel sailing toward our island.

the same uneasy feeling that I had felt the morning before quickly returned. My Dad quickly interrupted saying

“Leon, that man over there is asking for help, you are not here to ask questions.”

I shook the feeling and walked over to the booth I was told to go to. I was met with a raspy old voice. I looked over to see a middle aged man with long grayish hair, stubble, and scars all over.

“Hey boy! What is your name” said the man in a friendly tone “I am Leon, Sir”
“Leon! You must be Williams son”
“Yes Sir, that is me”

“You don't have to call me sir, kiddo! Your father and I go way back! My name is Lazarus, like the dead guy from the bible.”

“Nice to meet you Lazarus, Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually Leon, I called you over because I wanted to meet you”
I stood there with a confused look on my face. My Dad never told me much about his life

before the island, and I was too young to remember anything about living on the mainland, so this man knowing who I was came as a shock to me. Before Lazarus could finish his though, Piercing noise filled the air
Bang... Bang... Bang...

During my conversation with Lazarus, I failed to notice how close the black ship had gotten. Shocked by the noise, it took me a second to realize that the port was on fire. The black ship had ignited cannon fire on the island. After the first couple of shots, it did not take long for a panic to start among the people in the festival. Merchants and villagers began running the opposite way of the port, and without thinking I started running towards it. The only thing filling my mind was my Dad. As the adrenaline filled my body I began to run faster and faster. Once I got to the port, I was met with a horrifying sight. Ships and docks were burning and the heat was intense.

“DAD! DAD!” I screamed but was met with no response. I pushed through the flames and continued my screaming. As I searched, my uneasy feeling turned into dread. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a person laying on the ground. I quickly jolted my head with my eyes wide open. My blood turned cold. The man laying there was my father. I quickly ran over and kneeled down next to him. He was bloody and staring straight up with dull eyes. I gently picked up his head and screamed

“DAD, DAD” once more

His body was cold. The few seconds that I sat there felt like hours. Suddenly I felt a thump at the back of my head. I blacked out.

When I finally woke up it felt like I had been asleep for days. My head was throbbing and the room I was in was damp and dark. I could tell it was daytime by the small amount of light that was shining through the cracks on the surface above me. Not knowing where I was, I quietly opened the door of the room I was contained in. a small staircase was in front of me. I walked up and found another door. Light was shining through this door on all sides. I knew it led outside. I gathered up some courage and opened the door. My heart jumped when I saw a person standing on the other side.

“Ahoy! Leon, You're finally awake”
The voice was familiar. As my eyes adjusted to the light i realized who it was

“Lazarus?” I said in a surprised tone
“The one and only, my boy!” he replied
Talking to Lazarus put me at ease, but the feeling did not last long. The memories of what

had happened before I was knocked out came flooding back. Now feeling distressed, I quickly began asking Lazarus what had happened.

“Lazarus, where is my Dad? Where am I? What happened to the island?”
In a somber tone he replied “Son, We have a lot to talk about, how about we go sit down” Eager for answers I followed him through the door. I quickly realized that I was on a ship.

A new voice suddenly started shouting.
“Captain! Captain! We have a stow away aboard!”
I watched as a large muscular man walked over to Lazarus with a boy. The boy in custody

had shackles on his wrists and a bag over his head.
“Remove the bag, Zo.” said Lazarus
The large man (whose name I now identified as Zo) followed his order
Once the bag was removed I was shocked to see who it was
I blurted out “Jimmy?”
“You know this young man?” Replied Lazarus.
“Yes I have known him for years, we grew up together on the island”
Lazarus quickly ordered Jimmy's cuffs removed. Zo complied and removed his shackles.

Jimmy got up and ran over to me. Still not convinced of his safety, he darted his eyes back and forth with a serious look on his face scanning his surroundings.

“Leon, we can't trust these guys” stated Jimmy
“It’s ok Jimmy, this man was friend of my Fathers” I replied
I pointed at Lazarus and Jimmy began to calm down a bit. After Lazarus exchanged a few

more words with Jimmy, He decided to follow us. Lazarus led us into a large, decorated cabin with a big dining table and a lot of food.

“You boys must be hungry, please feel free to eat anything here.” Proclaimed Lazarus.

Hesitantly, we both began to eat. Because of the confusion, I had lost track of how hungry I was. I began to eat like an animal, shoveling food into my mouth, I glanced over and noticed that Jimmy was doing the same. When we were finished, Lazarus addressed us in a serious tone

“I'm sure you two are eager for answers”

My heart sank, but I was alert, and urgently waiting to hear his next words. I cried out once more

“What happened to my father?”

Lazarus was silent for a moment and looked down. After a few seconds he looked me in the eye.

“Son” he said
I felt the blood rush to my head in anticipation. My ears started ringing.
“Your Father...”
I felt my heart raise into my throat, I knew what was coming
“... is dead, I am very sorry”
Tears began to well up in my eyes. The words that Lazarus spoke were a truth that I

already knew, but hearing it out loud hit me like a brick. Lazarus continued and explained the situation

“The people that attacked your island are called the Phantom Crew. They are mercenaries, and pirates that specialize in assasination. I am sorry but I don't know if there were any survivors aside from us. I'm sure you both lost family and friends. Again, I am very sorry.”

“What did they want with our island?” I shouted through the tears.
“They wanted your father.” replied Lazarus.
“What the hell could they possibly want with my father?” I exclaimed back. “They want to find your mother,” replied Lazarus in a restrained tone.

Now angry and hysterical I screamed back “You dumbass, My mother is dead! You are making no sense old man”

With a serious glare Lazarus looked at me and finished the conversation

“Leon, there are things your father lied to you about. It was for your own good. It was to keep you safe. I will explain everything to you, so for now you need to listen. Your Mother is alive, and we are going to find her first.

I fell to my knees fully crying. I was speechless.

To be continued... (maybe) Words 2145, A workload

Reflection

I watch a lot of shows, and I enjoy a good story. No matter where it comes from. When covid started (along with many other people) I started to really get into streaming and just shows/movies as a whole. I am a night owl and stay up pretty late every night (usually go to bed around 4:00 AM). Because nobody else is awake, I tend to spend a lot of my time at night watching a show or a movie. My favorite shows include Breaking Bad, Hunter X Hunter, and my all time favorite One Piece. I really enjoy the adventure genre, and stories that have loss in them. I set my story on an island (I got that idea from one piece), and kind of just started writing from there. I had no idea what I wanted to write when I started. When I was coming up with my story I mostly just sat in my chair and brainstormed. If an idea that I liked popped into my head I started writing till I came to a dead end, and then repeated the process till I was satisfied with my story. I already have a good idea of what my creative process is. I tend to associate colors and music with different emotions, so when I am writing or making music, ect.. I turn on the led light in my room that can change colors (I set them to whatever mood I am feeling) and (when writing) some chill

music. This usually helps me visualize ideas in my head. The best way I can describe it is like the movie ratatouille when the rat mixes flavors for the first time (here is a link if you haven't seen the movie https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLXYILcRoPQ). My story is fiction and I think that I used a few elements pretty well. The element that I feel I used the best was sensory. I had plenty of vivid descriptions in my writing. A good example can be found in my very first paragraph when I was describing a sunrise. Overall I enjoyed the storytelling process. Writing a story is something that I have actually wanted to do for a while, but I could never find the motivation to do so. Now that I have a good base, I might continue and finish this story.

401 words A workload