Jason squinted against the relentless sun, its heat a constant presence that seemed to drain his energy. Each day felt the same—another stretch of unbroken blue sky, another round of endless waves, and another round of survival.

He rubbed his sunburned neck and pushed himself up from the raft's hard surface, stretching sore muscles as the raft rocked gently beneath him. The first task of the day was always the same—check the desalination system.

With slow, deliberate movements, Jason reached for the makeshift device he'd rigged up with his limited knowledge of engineering. The once-tedious process of assembling it had now become second nature. He adjusted the tubes, watching the flow of fresh water slowly but steadily fill the collection basin.

"Not bad," he muttered, cupping a hand to catch the water as it dripped. "This'll do for now. Let's hope there are no clouds today."

His desalinators were working by condensation. No sun meant no water, and no water meant, well… no Jason. As much as he hated the heat, it was the only thing that was keeping him alive.

Jason drank, savoring each drop, his dry throat finally soothed. As he finished, he inspected the device again, making sure it was still running smoothly. The routine was becoming more predictable, less of a struggle, but no less vital.

Once the water was taken care of, Jason's eyes scanned the raft for his next task. Fishing. Always fishing. His makeshift rod lay beside him, the string still attached and the makeshift hook gleaming in the early light.

It was part of the rhythm now, the familiar tug of the line, the waiting. It was as if he'd always been doing this—watching the line, waiting for it to move.

"Here's hoping," Jason murmured, watching the water lap against the raft.

As the hours passed, the sun crept higher in the sky, its rays unrelenting. His stomach growled in protest, a reminder of how little he'd eaten in the past few days. Raw fish, no matter how hard won, wasn't the most satisfying meal. But it was sustenance. That was all that mattered right now.

With a grunt of frustration, Jason adjusted the line, trying not to think about how long it had been since he'd eaten anything other than fish. There was nothing else. No snack bars or fresh fruit. Just the fish.

His thoughts drifted briefly to the raft's surroundings, to the ocean stretching infinitely in every direction. The quiet seemed to echo louder with each passing day. In a way, the silence was almost more exhausting than the constant motion of the raft. No voices, no distractions. Just the sound of the water and the occasional creak of the raft.

By the end of the day, Jason had caught two small fish. Not much, but it would do. He cleaned them with the practiced movements that had become routine, each action smoother and more automatic.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Another day," he said quietly, watching the fish dangle from his improvised string.

He let his gaze shift to the horizon, where the ocean met the sky, an unbroken line of blue. The same view every day.

"Maybe things will change tomorrow," Jason muttered, though even he wasn't sure he believed it. It was just something to say.

The constant motion of the raft had left his muscles sore and his stomach queasy. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but the hard surface offered no relief. "I never thought I'd miss my lumpy dorm mattress this much," he chuckled weakly.

As night fell, Jason found his thoughts drifting. The vastness of the ocean around him seemed to amplify his solitude.

"Hey, ocean," he called out, desperate to hear a voice, even if it was his own. "Got any good jokes? No? Just me then, huh?"

Jason hugged his knees to his chest, fighting back a wave of despair. "Come on, Keller," he whispered to himself. "You've faced challenges before. This is just... a really alien and wet one."

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure up memories of home, of friends, of anything beyond this endless expanse of water. "I wonder if anyone's looking for me," he mused aloud. "Or if they even know I'm gone."

He also had a darker thought.

"I hope they haven't disappeared like me."

He gazed up at the stars. They were offering him familiarity and a small comfort. "At least you guys are still here," he said softly. "Think you could guide a rescue ship my way? No? That was worth a shot."

A glint on the water's surface caught Jason's eye, momentarily distracting him from his stargazing. He leaned over the edge of the raft, squinting into the dark depths below. Something moved beneath the waves, a shadow darker than the surrounding sea.

"What the..." Jason muttered, his heart rate quickening. The shadow glided gracefully, circling the raft with deliberate precision.

As it passed beneath him again, Jason's breath caught in his throat. The sleek, unmistakable silhouette of a shark came into focus, its dorsal fin briefly breaking the surface.

"Oh, great," he said, his voice a mix of awe and fear. "Just when I thought I had no company for dinner."

Jason's mind raced, recalling fragments of shark documentaries he'd watched during his late-night sessions. "Okay, stay calm," he coached himself. "It's probably just curious. Sharks don't actually like eating humans... right?"

The shark circled again, closer this time. Jason could almost make out its gills in the moonlight.

"Hey there, big guy," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Or girl. I'm not judging. Look, I know I'm the new kid on the block, but I'm not really interested in being a midnight snack."

As if in response, the shark's fin cut through the water, creating a small wake that rocked the raft.

Jason gripped the edges of his makeshift vessel, his knuckles turning white. "This is fine," he muttered. "Just a normal day in the life of Jason Keller. Alien trials, shark encounters... What's next, a kraken?"

He watched the predator's fluid movements, a grudging admiration mixing with his fear. "You know," he said softly, "under different circumstances, I'd probably think you were beautiful."

The shark continued its patrol.

"I guess we're both just trying to survive out here, huh?" Jason mused. "Let's just agree to respect each other's space, okay?"

As the night wore on, Jason remained vigilant, his eyes never leaving the dark shape in the water. The shark's presence, while terrifying, had given him something to focus on beyond his own isolation. In a strange way, he almost felt less alone.