Young Storykeeper Volume III

272 | STORYKEEPERS VOLUME III AGE TWELVE | 273
THE OCEAN LIGHTHOUSE
You probably can’t imagine where I live. Well, it would take a good bit of
guessing. Actually loads of guessing. But it’s a really nice place to live.
Enough of the suspense. Anyway, I live in a lighthouse alongside a
cottage with a cliff going a hundred feet down. It’s on an island with a beach
and cave to the right.
When you look out at the ocean, you are ten miles from the mainland.
And that’s why I have a big fishing boat to get me to the mainland and back.
I also use it for diving and fishing and on a calm day you would see dolphins
and whales.
Back on the island I have a natural swimming pool and jacuzzi with a
waterfall.
The good thing about living on the island is that I don’t have to worry about
coronavirus. There’s no one to tell me if I don’t abide by the five kilometre
limit. I can still come to the mainland to shop for food. There’s no people on
the island, only me.
Did I mention my dog Casper who is white like the ghost Casper?
Anyway it isn’t all fun and games living on an island. There is still work
to do.
I have to man the lighthouse and look after the farm animals such as
chickens, pigs, sheep and cows. I go out on the ocean to get fish for dinner.
One day, I noticed a lot of ships coming for the island -three huge ferries
to be exact. They were full of construction equipment such as diggers, dozers
and cranes and about thirty workers.
I thought they might be going to another island so I went up to the
lighthouse to turn on the lights.
When I came back, I noticed I had a letter. I opened it to find a compulsory
order, saying I had thirty days to leave.
This was hugely unfair because generations of us had lived here for three
hundred years. I got no notice to challenge it in court. They were building a
town on the island. I thought I’m going to make it as hard as I can for them.
I’m going to burn the jetty. I’m going to cover it in petrol and light it the
minute they get to the jetty. So that’s what I did and one of the three boats
went up in smoke.
To finish off the next boat, I went out with a drill and put severholes in it
and it sank.
For the third boat I put on the lighthouse lights on full power and blinded
them so they crashed into the cliff. I never saw them again. Not for a while
anyway.
I never heard from the government, so they probably thought I was the
cause of the Bermuda Triangle.
Then one day I went into the cave and found the workers had made a
home there.
Well, at least I won’t be going down for murder.
Conor Gallogly
Co Leitrim
BIRD’S EYE VIEW
From a bird’s eye view I see three sailors. Unkempt beards, crystal blue eyes, enjoying
the sea, and to wash it all down, each drinking a fresh, icy beer straight from the
bottle. They are out to relax, no destination, no one to please but themselves, as they
see where the water takes them. These three men must have wives and children at
home, this is probably a much-needed timeout with friends. They better get home
soon, to get their little ones to bed.
The tallest of the three, who is steering at the helm, decides it’s time to go back
home. He turns the boat and heads straight onward. Up ahead they see a bright
light. What could it be? It is one of the oldest lighthouses in Irish history, they must
stop to look. It’s breathtaking!
An hour passes as quickly as you can say, “fair winds and following sea,” and
the three sailors chat and squall with joy until the sky which surrounds them turns a
deep midnight blue. Through a haze of fog, I spy the oldest man sniff the cool air as
it begins to pick up. Suddenly, lightning attacks, leaving a great wound in the sailors’
hull. Hurriedly a commotion breaks out between the men and sweat lines the brows
of these scruffy sea dogs. I swoop above them, unnoticed as they fluster and turn the
boat around hastily. Surprisingly, they start to panic. It’s obvious they are experienced
at sea, but frantic scurrying and imprecision allows the freezing salt water to enter
their boat. As the boat tosses and turns I fly out towards the lighthouse which stands
tall, firm, unmoving.
I perch on the top, watching and waiting for them to recover their boat, until
lightning strikes the lighthouse, destroying all source of light and leaving the sailors
with no way to shore. As they struggle in darkness, the deep midnight blue becomes
a dark gloomy black, getting darker by the second. The men look to be losing hope.
The water has now invaded their boat and soon will have taken over, leaving them
sinking deep below the water’s surface. They lose their calm and sense in all that
surrounds them, and panic until their boat goes down. Struggling under the water,
the boat covering any way of freedom! One goes down the others go with him, now
all three are trapped below the soaked wreck.
I fly above them in a circular motion and watch as black smoke surrounds their
lifeless bodies. The smoke swirls into an ashy black tornado and settles level with the
remains of the lighthouse. I call out in hopeless distress and the tornado petrifyingly
screeches back at me. It gets higher and higher. Suddenly it destroys anything left of
the lighthouse, dashing all hope of anyone finding out about the horrific accident. It
separates into six mini tornados and I hear the loud screech again. Then it disappears.
My view turns back to the water, desperate for some form of life only to see
black smoke again, but this time it is forming into six sea sirens. These are deadly
guarders and anyone that goes near them will die. They surround the corpses all day,
every day screeching horrifically twice a day. To this day their diminishing, anonymous
skeletons have never been recovered. Guarded by sea sirens and watched from on
high.
Only a lone seagull knows the truth and that’s me! This is now the lost sea and
I saw it all from a bird’s eye view.
Marielle Hunter
Co Antrim