The Abandoned Island

For the first time I understand what authors mean when they say that characters are not cooperating. I needed to write about an island that a character purchased for only $5 and why. I wanted the characters to stay on the island for another day to try to destroy it. But they were too scared and just wanted to leave. Enjoy the story.

We sail up to the old worn-out dock. Nobody has been here in almost fifty years. Which is odd because its just a short thirty minute  off the shore. It was privately owned until about five years ago. Then it wound up in probate court. No family wanted to claim it, so finally a judge ordered for it to be sold off. The family tried to say it shouldn’t be sold and to just leave it well enough alone. The judge reminded them that they had no say unless they wanted to own it again themselves. So, when we showed up asking about available property, we never imagined an island would be on the list.

We pull our camping gear from the boat. We are going to get to know the land and try to build a house here. We found an open clearing near the beach and make camp. After a quick meal we decided to go for a hike. The island is peaceful. A few small creatures that we will easily be able to coexist with all of them. It’s a small island and we can walk around the perimeter in a day easily. When we make it back to our camp site we feed the fire, eat again, and settle in for the night.

A couple hours later, I woke up with an odd feeling. It almost sounds like someone is out there talking. I peak my head out of my tent just as everyone else is doing the same. We all agree that we hear a distant whispering, though no one can make out what is being said. With only a few hours left till morning we set up a watch to be sure that we are safe, agreeing we will investigate further inland in the daylight.

As the sun breaks the horizon the whispering sound fades so suddenly you would almost think it hadn’t been there at all. We all look at each other questioning our sanity. We made a large breakfast and with full bellies we convinced ourselves it was just a nocturnal insect native to the island. So, we packed up camp and started to head out.

The plan for the house is to find a large clearing that we won’t have to disturb much. Then we will build a storage shed near the dock to hold a trailer or golf cart to be able to transfer supplies from the boat to the house.

We have been exploring for quite a few hours when we break through a thick section of trees into a huge clearing. In the middle of the clearing is an ornate old house that looks like it has been around for at least a century. We weren’t expecting that. We were told that the previous owner hadn’t been here in years. Yet this house looks like it has been kept up. We can’t believe our luck. Not only had this island been a steal, but now we wont have to build the house we wanted, because it’s already here. With excitement, as if we were kids at Christmas, we go into the house to explore.

It is perfect. It is almost as if someone had been spying on our plans and replicated the house and stuck it here. All the charm of an old farmhouse with all the amenities for being off grid. We joke about how the island doesn’t want us to leave. Upon inspection of all the rooms we determine that with the supplies we have we can stay here tonight. Though I can see on all our faces the apparent bugs are still out there, and we never identified them. We settle in for the night, trying to convince each other we will be fine.

Within an hour we all jumped out of bed again. The whispering started again. They sound just as indistinct as they did last night. But what scares us more is there is thick fog that surrounds us. Behind the fog there seems to be an eerie red glow coming from the surrounding forest. We can’t seem to approach the forest anymore either. It doesn’t feel like a force field, just that our feet change direction of their own accord. All night the glow never ceases, the fog hovers thick around us, and the whispering is constant. We try to stay huddled in the shelter of the house but the fog creeps in from every creak and crevasse. The whispering seems to be inside our minds now. And the glow won’t go away even when we close our eyes.

Finally, the dawn breaks and it all fades away. We decide right then and there that no matter what we are leaving the island and never coming back. After we are packed up the feeling of being trapped washes over us. Our number one priority becomes getting off the island. As we approach the forest again, we finally can reach it. We hike as fast as we can to the boat. We are scared. We haven’t been able to put our finger on what happened here, we just know this is no place for people. We reach the boat and pray that it starts. It does on the first try, to our relief. We make it back to the mainland in record time. That’s when we collectively take our first big breath in two days.

Within two months’ time we have forged documents about soil contamination that should keep people away for at least a couple of centuries after we die. But the nightmares about being trapped, and someone talking just out of sight never really go away.