Pumpkin Island Page #4

Writing stories is my passion in life! It feels wonderful to create something new out of imagination. So, when a boy named Jake sails out to sea on a dare and shipwrecks on a mysterious island, it's the start of a unique and entrancing tale.

• Fantasy
• Fiction
• Humour
• Action and Adventure

								

I wasn’t gonna accept she was dead. I didn’t kill her. No, she was just back at the cave-house, making breakfast. 
No, she didn’t sacrifice herself for me by staying on the boat long enough to push me off.
No, she’s not dead.
I fell to the ground. Hot tears rolled down my face. Head in my hands, I wept. I wept for Belle, I wept for the lost hope she held onto so dearly, and I wept for myself, on how I was probably never gonna get out of here.
After I could produce no more tears, I stood up, quivering with shock.

The cold sun was up and shining in my face, just as if nothing had happened, as if it didn’t care whether Belle was alive or dead. I stood there. How could this stupid world do something like this?!?
Can’t it understand Belle was an actual person, with an actual life? She was so young!
I kicked a tree next to me. I didn’t care if it was the tree’s fault or not, It just felt good to destroy something. I kicked it again. I sighed. Kicking a tree wasn’t gonna stop Belle from being dead.
I trudged back to the cave house. How could I have done this?
I climbed the rocky walls of the cave-house. When I got inside my mood turned even darker. A bunch of monkey-type animals were going through our food.
I grabbed a broom and shoo-ed them out the door, and closed the window that they had gotten through. They had no right to make my day even worse.
 I finished off the food the monkeys didn’t touch and went to bed. This was altogether too depressing for me to do anything else.

Day Six

A couple of hours later, I heard something rustling in the yard. I grabbed a broom and rushed out the door into the chilly night. Those monkeys weren’t going to get any more of Belle’s food! Suddenly, a human-like figure sprang past me.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, sleepyhead!”
Belle’s voice cut through the cold night air. Without thinking, I embraced the figure.
“Belle! I thought you died!”
She shrugged.
“I’m sorry we didn’t make it to the land.”
“Me too.”
I hugged her tighter than ever before, and said,
“Why don’t we go inside and you tell me what happened?”
“Sure. I’m starving! I need FOOOOOOOOOD!”
And in that moment, I knew she was back to her old self, except she was wearing a strange, baggy overcoat. Personally, I couldn’t be happier. I opened the cave-house door, and she went in with a proudness I hadn’t seen before in her.
She plopped down on a chair.
“Tell me, how did you survive?”
She shrugged again. As I looked at her, I noticed she had no scorch marks on her face, or seaweed in her hair. Odd.
“So, ‘sleepyhead,’” She said in a sarcastic voice I’ve never heard her use before. “Where’s that miracle land of yours?”
“I told you, I’m really really sorry! There was a storm, and we didn’t make it!”
“Hmph!”
I couldn’t figure out why she was acting so oddly. Maybe coming back to life was a hard experience.  The sun shone through the window. 
It was all going to be alright.
“Okay, now give me intel- I mean, tell me more about the outside world.”
Okay, this was definitely weird. 
“Do you want to know more about microwaves?”
“I don’t even want to hear about that nonsense! Tell me about humans- I mean, no thank you, can you tell me more about yourself?”
This was definitely terrifying.
“No way! I don’t know who you are, you creep, but you’re not Belle!”
“What do you mean, Belle? I’m a guy- I mean, yep, of course I’m Belle. Yup, yup yup, nothing to see here!”
I ran out the door.  What the heck was that? I heard footsteps behind me.  
“Where are you going? You still didn’t tell me!”
Up the forest path, I saw a flash of silver hair. There stood the real Belle, hair covered in seaweed and face trickled with scorch marks.
“What’s happening?’
“No idea, just run!”
“Uhh… OK?’’
She glanced behind her. 
“Uh-oh…”
The figure chasing us stopped.
“Wait a minute, can we just pause so that I can catch my breath?”
I didn’t know what the figure wanted, but I knew you shouldn’t pretend to be dead people.
We took no notice of the figure’s pleas and kept running. After a while, we stopped, and caught our breath. The figure did so, too.
“Why are you following us?”
“Umm, for the fun of it!”
“Well, stop it! And don’t pretend to be dead little girls!”
Belle looked over at me with a questioning glance.
“Sleepyhead, asking nicely isn’t gonna work!”
“Well, what is gonna work? And why is it standing there waiting for us to figure out what to do?”
“Good question,” The Creature nodded. Then it bolted after us. I stuck out my foot and tripped it. It immediately fell to the ground. 
Me and Belle caught each other’s eyes. This dude wasn’t too bright.
“Who are you and why are you chasing us and why did you pretend to be me?” Belle demanded.
“Well, who are you and why are you alive and why are you sticking a finger in my face?”
I scratched my head. Both Belle and the creature made reasonable arguments.
I grabbed the creature and tied it up to a tree. Better safe than sorry, I figured. As I did so, a weird costume fell off to the side, and I could see that it was a short, chubby man in his 50s.
“Tell us, what are you doing here?”
“Well, I dropped out of college and I have social anxiety, so I came here in hope of living a peaceful life, but after spending ten years here, I got bored and decided to freak someone out by pretending to be his dead girlfriend!”
“Okay, first of all, she’s not my girlfriend! Second of all, you need therapy, dude!”
“But I have social anxiety and I’m afraid of therapists!” cried the figure. 
“What’s therapy?” Belle interrupted. 
“Something this guy needs!”
Suddenly, I was reminded of my Uncle Bob.  People say he ran away from college and never came back.
“Wait, what’s your name?”
“Bob.”
I slapped my forehead. Of course! I knew he looked familiar.
“Okay, Belle, we’re taking him with us.”
“Wait, who are you?”
“You’re my uncle! Wait, are you?”
“Well, duh, Bob’s your uncle.”
“No, really, I’m your nephew Jake!”
“Oh, really? Hi, Jake! Could you please untie me?”
I sighed, and untied Uncle Bob. We were going to need all the help we could get to get off this island, even if the help is slightly crazy.
“I want a taco,” Uncle Bob declared. “Let’s get out of here.”
“How?”
“Well, Jake, I watched your boat capsize twice. We’re gonna need something that can’t capsize.” He drew a map out in the sand. I turned to Uncle Bob.
“Uncle, you’re a genius. A mad genius, but a genius nonetheless,”
At these words Uncle Bob looked proud.
While I was gathering some wood, I noticed a question that was left unanswered. 
“Belle, how did you survive?”
“Ooh, that’s a long story! Let’s build and talk.”
She began arranging the wood into the shape of a base, and Uncle Bob began nailing it down.
“You see, after I pushed you off the boat, I’m pretty sure I didn’t make it in time, ‘cause everything went black.”
She arranged some wood on the side of the base.
“Then I woke up somewhere very bright, and then Jesus said I was a god and I wasn’t supposed to die and booted me back down to earth.”

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