When Bel woke it was dark. Not the city kind of dark she was used to, where there was still enough light to see some things. No, this was an all encompassing, blotting out all hope kind of dark.
The only light is coming from the moon, reflecting from the water. Bel drug herself from the deep darkness and into the moonlight. The ocean was relatively calm and the stillness was almost eerie. It’s a little better out here, she thinks, but a wave of hopelessness crashed over her as she recalled her predicament. Here she was, stuck in the middle of the ocean for all she knew on an island that might as well be deserted, and all she had with her was this stupid purple t-shirt (okay, and her bathing suit underneath, but that didn’t help any either).
As Bel walked alongside the ocean, she thought about what she could do. How could any one person be expected to cope with this? Her only experience with anything like this was watching that movie Castaway, and even Tom Hanks had more supplies than she did. Surely, she thought, when morning came, there would be boats that would pass by and see her. There would have to be. That’s it, she thought, If I just make it to morning, someone will be here to rescue me.