We had been sailing for three weeks before we hit the storm. It was a hurricane, one of the worst I'd ever seen. And it had come out of no where. Like magic. But now is not the time to dwell on that.

It was made better that in the open ocean there was nothing to hit. But at the same time, there is no where to hide. And if we lost our sails, we'd be stranded, with no hope of survival.

The storm was all around us, buffeting The Lark from all sides. Nic was at the wheel, trying to keep the ship moving. while at the same time, she was calling out orders to her men, who honestly were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Myself included.

"Lefty! Jackson! Lower the mainsails!"

"Boots! Buster! The foresail!"

"Branch! Clancy! Grab mizzensails!"

We all jumped to her command. If those sails ripped, or worst, blew into the sea, we would be doomed. There was no time to lose.

Lefty and Jackson, the most seasoned sailors, raced for the tallest mast, which was at the center of the ship.

Boots and Buster, the youngest at nineteen and seventeen respectively, headed as fast as they could to the foresail, the shortest of the three masts, which lies at the back of the ship.

That left the mizzensails, at the front of the ship, to me and another sailor named Clancy.

We raced as fast as we could to the mast, clinging to whatever rope or railings we could get our hands on to prevent us falling into the sea; which would mean nothing less than certain death.

Clancy and me finally made it to the aftdeck, panting and gasping for air, but we kept going.

Clancy raced to the starboard ladder, and after seeing his direction, I ran to the port ladder.

The rope was slick with water, making every step was a struggle, to stay on.

The waves beat against the ship on her port side, trying to drag The Lark and her crew into the deepest depths of the ocean.

I could see Clancy had made it to the first sail, and was working on getting it out of the wind.

I was half way there when a huge wave crashed into the ship, causing The lark to tilt dangerously to port.

I had been struggling to stay on as it was, between the wet ladder and the storm. That wave was the last straw.

My feet slipped, and time slowed. I was clinging to life, nothing but a slippery ladder to save myself. Dangling, over the water, no ship to catch me. The seconds it took for this to take place felt like hours as slowly, inch by inch, my hands lost their grip, and I fell into the sea.

My back slammed into the water, stealing the breath from my lungs.

As the world turned hazy, I was left wondering, would the crew make it out alright? Would they notice I was gone? Would they try to save me?

I wished I could take it all back. Never have I wished for something more in my life. And I doubt I ever will again. I wished I could reset the clock, turn back time to before I asked Nic to help me in this crusade.

As I sank ever deeper into the ocean, I wished I had asked them to marry me. I wished I had the courage to tell them those three little words. 'I love you' is one of the hardest things to say. Not because of the words, but because of the meaning behind those words.

By saying 'I love you', you are saying a thousand more things at the same time.

you mean the world to me

there's nothing I won't do for you

... you are my world.

I wished I had told them these things before I died.

As my eyes closed, and my world grew dark, I thought I saw a flash of light. Bright green, and sort-of... dust like.

Even to this day, I have no idea what that was. All I know is, it saved my life.