I opened my eyes to a world of gold. The sun, a molten orb, crept over the horizon, its first rays setting the ocean ablaze. The sky above me was a canvas of pastel hues - soft pinks, muted purples, and pale blues blending seamlessly into the vast expanse of water that surrounded me.

For a moment, I lay still, drinking in the beauty. The gentle lapping of waves against wood created a soothing rhythm, punctuated by the distant cries of seabirds. A warm breeze caressed my face, carrying with it the tang of salt and the promise of a scorching day ahead.

As my senses slowly awakened, I became aware of the rough planks beneath me. My fingers instinctively traced the weathered grain, feeling every splinter and imperfection. The raft creaked and swayed with the ocean's gentle undulations, a living thing beneath my body.

I licked my lips, tasting brine. My throat felt parched, my tongue thick and unwieldy in my mouth. How long had I been asleep? Hours? Days?

Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, I pushed myself up on my elbows. The world tilted and swam before my eyes, and I had to squeeze them shut against a wave of dizziness. When I opened them again, the full reality of my situation crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Water. Everywhere I looked, there was nothing but water. The raft - my tiny island of safety - seemed to shrink as I took in the vastness of the ocean surrounding me. No land. No ships. No sign of life beyond the occasional glint of scales beneath the waves or the white wings of a far-off seabird.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

My heart began to race, each beat a thunderous echo in my ears. Where was I? How did I get here? I scrambled to my knees, ignoring the protest of stiff muscles, and scanned the horizon desperately for any sign of land or rescue.

Nothing. Just the endless blue meeting the sky in a seamless line.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears. "Is anyone there?"

Only the cry of a distant gull answered me.

Panic clawed at my throat. I tried to stand, but my legs gave way beneath me, and I collapsed back onto the rough planks. The raft rocked precariously with my movement, sending ripples across the calm surface of the water.

"Think," I muttered to myself, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. "Think. How did you get here?"

But my mind was a blank. I couldn't remember boarding a ship, couldn't recall any storm or accident that might have left me adrift. When I tried to conjure up memories of my life before this moment, all I found were fragments - fleeting images and sensations that slipped away like smoke when I tried to grasp them.

I didn't even know my own name.

That realization sent a fresh wave of terror through me. Who was I? Why couldn't I remember? I looked down at my hands, as if they might hold some clue to my identity. Sun-browned skin, calluses, a few small scars - the hands of someone used to physical work. But they told me nothing about who I was or how I'd ended up here.

The sun climbed higher as I sat there, trying desperately to piece together the puzzle of my existence. Its heat beat down on me, intensifying the thirst that clawed at my throat. I became acutely aware of my body's needs - water, food, shelter from the merciless sun.

Survival. That had to be my focus now. Questions of identity and how I'd gotten here would have to wait. I forced myself to take deep breaths, to push down the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. Panicking wouldn't help. I needed to stay calm, to think clearly if I was going to survive this.