Stephen Fahey: Day 7

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Last night was the worst night of our entire lives. A squall crashed into us while we slept and washed most of our supplies overboard. Hope nearly drowned and I had to jump into the ocean to rescue her. I clung to her and the dingy for hours as waves roared and grew and roared louder and smashed us and dragged us under and over ourselves and up and down and down further and over again. It savaged us for hours. I don’t know how I held on.

 

We are so tired now. Everything hurts. Pain screamed at us all night and now our bodies are deafened. Hope cried all morning after we finally got back in the dingy. She’s shaking with the cold and won’t eat and we can’t sleep. I’m scared. For the first time since the explosion I am truly scared. Fear is perched on the bow of the dingy now and he’s staring at us both, licking his lips and rocking back and forth, huffing and drooling. I can tell that he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem to have tired one bit. Even after all that screaming and clawing at the grip I had on the dingy all night, to try to drown Hope and I, you’d think he would want to rest. But he doesn’t. He has even more energy now. I swear he could breathe fire he wanted to.

 

Hope is snoozing now but Fear keeps barking at her and waking her. I’ve swung at Fear with my arms a few times but he flaps he always jumps out of the way and dodges me each time, then lands again and leers at us, thirsty for our hearts. But I won’t let him touch us. I won’t let him touch Hope. Even if I have to sacrifice myself, like Cap sacrificed himself for me, then I will. I realise though, that underneath all that venom, Fear is still a living creature. It too feels fear and hunger and, perhaps, even love.

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