Emily Josephine hated the ceiling fan. It was ugly, slow, and worst of all, noisy. A low, droning click-click-click that ruined any chance of sleep. She had paid for a deluxe cabin, not some rundown motel room at sea.

Rolling onto her back in nothing but simple white cotton bra and panties, she stared at the polished wood panels overhead. Cruises are supposed to be relaxing, she thought bitterly. Instead she was trapped in a floating tin can with drunk tourists, bad food, and a mattress that felt like it had been stuffed with gravel. Somewhere in the hall, a man laughed too loud, followed by the clink of bottles.

"Ugh, can they just not?" she whined silently.

It was just like the city: crowded, noisy, exhausting. She had escaped the office grind only to get more of the same, only this time on water. All-inclusive hell, she decided.

A sour thought wormed through her. Maybe this was what her whole life was: fancy packaging around something empty. Her accounting job, her perfect clothes, her pumpkin lattes, her besties, her brand new apartment overlooking the old bridge, her feed full of pictures of cocktails and rooftop views. On paper, she was winning.

But lately, a weird, icky feeling crept under her skin. But she even refused to acknowledge it. She shook the almost-thought away. God, I'm pathetic. What a silly, silly idea. I love my life—

Then a loud, grinding noise shook the hull of the ship. The entire cabin shuddered violently. The mattress lurched out from under her and she was flung against the far wall.

The ceiling fan rattled like it might shear off its hinges before it stuttered to a halt. Light bulbs flared—blinding, buzzing—then burst with a pop that showered glass across the carpet. Darkness swallowed the room.

“Ow! Fuck, what is going—” Her voice cut off as another shudder ripped through the ship. Screams erupted outside, sharp and panicked.

Panic overtook her and before she knew it, rain hit her face. She suddenly realized she stood outside on the deck. It was slowly going sideways. The sky above was split open, thunder rolling like cannon fire, lightning carving the horizon into jagged pieces. People stumbled in every direction. The air reeked of salt and oil and fear.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered. “This is insane. This isn’t real.”

But it was. The ship groaned like a dying animal. Metal screamed. The deck tipped and she went down, fingers clawing at something orange as black water swallowed her whole.

She woke clinging to a life preserver, coughing, hair plastered across her face. Rain lashed her skin, waves towering around her like walls. She screamed, but her voice was ripped away instantly.

Hours blurred together. Sun by day, stars by night, the horizon endless in every direction. At first, she kept her chin high, muttering, They’ll come. Any minute now. Ships don’t just disappear. Someone will see me.

But the sky stayed empty. Her skin blistered under the sun. Her lips split until every swallow tasted like blood and salt. She dreamed of iced coffee, silk sheets, Wi-Fi. She laughed once, delirious, imagining herself posting a selfie from the middle of the ocean: #help.

She did not dare to look too far out in the horizon. But when she did, she screamed. Everywhere around her was water. Endless. Vast. More water than she had ever seen in her life.

And nobody came.

Sand scratched her cheek. She opened her eyes to blinding light. White-gold beach, palms swaying in the distance. Her arms ached, wrapped like claws around the preserver. She coughed until bile and seawater burned her throat. Every part of her body screamed with thirst, hunger, exhaustion.

She forced her head up.

I'm alive... she thought. And she was technically right. But only barely. Her throat was raw. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy.

But then, she noticed a dark figure a little further up the beach, still and silent, half in the shade. A person.

No, that can't possibly be true. For one dazed moment, she thought she must've conjured him. That the island, the trees, and the figure were just her brain's final joke before shutting down.

But he didn't vanish. He just stood there, calm, steady, watching her.

And her heart lurched.

"HELP!!!"