The Lone Survivor – #AtoZChallenge #BlogchatterA2Z

As I swam desperately towards the still-distant land, I couldn’t hold back my tears. My parents, two older brothers, their wives, their kids. All dead. Only I had survived, but I had no idea for how long. Huge waves engulfed me, and my thoughts unwittingly went back to the yacht.

It was meant to be a family fun day, a picnic after a very long time. We opened a bottle of champagne, the kids were getting high on sundaes and sun. Everything was blissful, everything was perfect. Until that fair-haired assassin showed up.

It was a massacre. He spared no one, not even the kids. I was below the decks when I heard the gunfire, and rushed up like a madman. But as soon as I came out, I felt a huge blow on my shoulder, and still in shock, I realized that I had just been shot. Blood still spurting out of my shoulder, I flipped overboard, and dove under the water.

I don’t know how long I kept on swimming, or how I managed to stay alive in those shark-infested waters with blood seeping out of my body. Every breath was sheer agony, every stroke a mission in itself. But despite all the pain, and weakness, something kept me going. I did not die because I refused to allow myself to die, not like this, not when I had come so far. And slowly, but steadily, I could feel myself nearing the beach.

I scrambled towards dry land as soon as I touched ground, before the tide took me back with it in my weakened state. Starving, parched, broken…but only in body, for my spirit was still alive, I hobbled across the beach, and collapsed.

Photo courtesy Sue Vincent

The beach was empty, but I knew the fishermen would be around soon. They would take me to the hospital. I just had to hold on for some more time.

I had lost a lot of blood by now, but I knew that I couldn’t close my eyes, for if I closed my eyes, I knew I would never wake up. And that was not an option.

For I had to take revenge upon the assassin. I knew what he looked like, and I would find him somehow, even if it was the last thing I ever did. I would not let him get away with this.

He would face my wrath, and my face would be the last thing he ever saw, I promised myself. Shooting me was not a part of the assignment I had hired him for.

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Written as a part of Thursday photo prompt: Footprints #writephoto hosted by Sue Vincent.

Also my submission for #AtoZChallenge and #BlogchatterA2Z, where today’s letter was L, which, in my story, stands for Lone survivor.