I woke up with sand in my face, lying on my belly, my legs wet from the waves creeping up the shore. My head throbbed, dum… dum… dum… every beat echoing in my skull. Where am I? My body felt heavy, useless, as if every muscle had been washed away with the tide.
I barely managed to turn my head, staring up at a sky so impossibly blue it made my heart ache with confusion. Palm trees swayed lazily in a gentle breeze behind me, and the dense edge of a tropical forest loomed beyond the sand. The world looked peaceful—but that only made my panic worse.
Other people lay scattered along the beach, some moving weakly, some just lying still. They looked as dazed and exhausted as I felt. My chest tightened, and I blinked rapidly to clear the stinging saltwater from my eyes.
Then I saw her. A few meters away, curled in the sand, trembling slightly. My daughter.
"Kate! Kate!!" I scrambled toward her on all fours, sand scratching my palms and knees. My voice was hoarse, cracking like dry branches. I grabbed her, pulling her close, my arms trembling. She shivered, her long lashes fluttering, but her eyes opened.
She's alive. Thank God. She's alive.
I held her tight, inhaling the salty breeze, feeling the strange softness of her small body against mine. Relief surged, but fear followed instantly. Where are we? What happened? I tried to remember anything before this… but my mind was a blank.
We were at dinner. That much I remembered. Laughter, food… warmth of home. And then… nothing.
The pain in my head pulsed with every heartbeat. My stomach churned, hunger and fear tangled into a bitter knot. I looked around, desperate for answers. Nothing moved except the water, gentle waves washing up and receding, indifferent to the chaos that had apparently thrown us here.
I tried to lift Kate into my arms, but she was heavier than she looked, and my muscles protested. We needed to move, to find shelter, water, something. My eyes darted along the beach. Was this an island? How far could it stretch? How many others were trapped here with us?
I pressed Kate against me, whispering reassurances I barely felt myself. We'll be okay. We'll survive.
But even as I said it, I couldn't shake the image of the unknown that waited beyond the forest, the feeling that something terrible had already begun…
I helped my daughter to her feet, and we leaned on each other as we moved toward the shade of the palms. Each step was exhausting—sand shifting under our feet, muscles trembling from strain I didn't know I had. Kate's small hand clung to mine, warm and fragile, yet steady enough to remind me we had to keep moving.
Finally, we reached a cluster of palms, their fronds casting a dappled pattern across the sand. We sank to the ground, panting, letting the shade cool our sunburned skin. Around us, the island seemed deceptively calm. The gentle rustle of leaves, the distant call of a bird—almost serene, almost ordinary. Yet beneath it, a pulse of unease throbbed in my chest.
I took in our surroundings. Beyond the beach, the forest loomed dark and dense, shadows twisting between trunks and vines. I couldn't see where it ended. The water behind us lapped against the sand in lazy waves, sparkling blue under the sun, betraying none of the danger it could hold.
"Mom…" Kate's voice was small, quivering, barely audible. She tilted her head toward the other survivors, who were stirring like wounded animals, some standing, some crawling, eyes wide and fearful.
"I know, sweetie. I know." I brushed the sand from her hair, trying to offer comfort I didn't fully feel. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what had happened. How had we come here? Why? And most importantly… how could we survive?
I noticed small details—things that didn't make sense. One man was helping another to his feet, but his eyes darted nervously, scanning the water as if expecting something. A woman crouched near the edge of the forest, clutching a child to her chest, staring blankly into space. Everyone seemed uncertain, fragile, like the world had just ended and they didn't yet know it.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus. We needed a plan. Shelter first. Water. Food. And we needed to stay together. Kate looked at me, her trust absolute, her little face smudged with sand. I could not fail her.
"Mom… are we… are we going to be okay?"
I took a deep breath, letting the salt air fill my lungs. "We'll be okay," I whispered, more firmly this time. "We just have to be smart, move carefully, and stay together. That's all that matters right now."
Even as I said it, I couldn't ignore the small signs around us—the waterline slightly higher than it should be, the uneasy silence from parts of the forest, the way some animals scurried nervously into the shadows. Something was coming. Something we weren't ready for.
But for now, all I could do was hold Kate close, feeling the tiny, rapid beat of her heart against mine, and make sure the first steps of survival were taken.
I held Kate a little tighter, letting her rest against me as I tried to collect my thoughts. My mind kept drifting to him—my fiancé. Where was he? Was he alive? Was he somewhere on this beach or lost in that dense forest? Panic twisted my stomach, but I pushed it down. I couldn't let it paralyze me—not now. Not with Kate depending on me.
I slowly lifted my gaze toward the edge of the forest, scanning the shadows between the trunks. Movement flickered far off—branches swaying, a shape disappearing behind a tree—but nothing concrete. No familiar figure, no sign of him. My chest ached with the uncertainty.
Shaking off the worry for a moment, I tried to focus on survival. My eyes caught sight of something small and bright, hanging from the lower branches of a nearby tree—fruits, dangling in clusters like little lanterns. Orange, red, and yellow, glimmering in the dappled sunlight.
Are these edible? I wondered. My stomach growled painfully, reminding me that we hadn't eaten in hours, maybe longer. But I didn't know this island. These fruits could be poison. They could kill us in minutes.
Kate shifted against me, tugging my sleeve. "Mom… can we eat them?" Her voice was hopeful, trusting, innocent.
I knelt beside her, examining the fruits more closely. Their skin looked soft, almost like peaches, but I had no way of knowing. Nature could be deadly. One wrong bite could ruin everything. My mind raced through survival advice I had once read or seen in documentaries. Look for signs of animals eating them. Avoid shiny, unusual colors. Avoid anything unfamiliar if you're not sure.
I shook my head, taking her small hand. "Not yet, honey. We have to be careful. First, we need water and shelter. These might be okay later, but we can't risk it now."
Her little lips pressed together, but she nodded obediently. I brushed a stray strand of sand-covered hair from her face and whispered, "We'll figure it out. Step by step. Together."
Even as I reassured her, my eyes kept scanning the forest. The shadows seemed darker, denser. Somewhere in there, my fiancé might be—but so might danger. And we weren't ready for whatever that could be.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension in my shoulders ease just a fraction. For now, we had shade, we had each other, and we had a plan: stay alert, stay alive, and survive until we figured out the rest.