Red Sky at Morning, Sailors Take Warning

This is for EcoDude's Picture Story Contest. It is fictional. Just so you know... Enjoy!

The picture it's based on is:

Disclaimer: This story belongs to me. I wrote it, I own it, and it in no way belongs to Quibblo.

Chapter 1



A chemical substance with the chemical formula H2O. The most common compound on Earth's surface. The liquid covering 70 percent of earth.

It's that clear stuff we drink.

It turns into ice when it gets cold.

It turns into steam when it's heated.

We can't survive without it.


What happens when you're afraid of it?


It was a warm summer day in 1998. A two year old girl sat with her parents at the beach, happily playing in the sand. It was a perfect day, with the bright sun, the crashing waves, and the adorable family having a picnic. The girl laughed a her father pretended to be a seagull stealing her mother's sandwich. Her blond pigtails and rosy cheeks shook as she giggled.

The girl watched as ants paraded along the side of the picnic blanket. Her mother picked her up and carried her to the ocean, dipping in her toes and spinning her around in the air.

Later, the girl napped on her towel in the dwindling sunlight while her parents took a ride in one of the many rowboats tied to the dock. Farther and farther they went. Farther and farther, until they were hardly visible. Farther and farther out to sea.

They never came back.


My parents drowned on June 23rd, 1998. I'm living with my Aunt Carol in Boston now. I am 16 years old. I like to read, and sing. I have pictures of my parents. I miss them.

I'm a complete outcast at school. Don't really know why. Maybe it's cause I'm quiet. I try to make friends. It's not my fault I only have one.

I'm deathly afraid of water. With good reason. Water is like a monster with seaweed hair and slits of seashell eyes and fish swimming in and out of its menacing mouth. I've tried to go to the beach. I've tried to go to the pool. I just can't do it.

Honestly? I hate my life. I feel so... alone. So vulnerable. It's just awful. Sometimes, I wish I could just die. What is there worth living for?

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