you've always been introverted by nature. being alone suited you. so 8 years ago, when the lighthouse keeper got sick, you really didn't mind stepping in. the routine of it was nice. get up every morning, make sure the lamp was functioning fine, log whatever the weather was. then you'd tend your little garden. it wasn't much, but it did reduce the frequency of your trips to the mainland, as you could pretty much eat off of the island. if you needed meat, you would hunt. if you needed new clothing, you would sew. otherwise, you spent most of your day in that little room up at the top of the lighthouse, shining the light and guiding the passing boats away from the sharp rock on the coast and into the port on the mainland.
every once in a while, a storm passed through. today's was a particularly treacherous one. you donned a plastic poncho that flapped in the wind as you ventured outside to bring anything that wasn't bolted down inside. as soon as you got back in, you let out a sigh of relief. it was freezing out there, the rain was coming down hard and the wind was harsh. anyone still out on the water today was certainly unlucky. you climbed up the coiling stairs into the lantern room, lighting a candle to warm yourself up as your settled into your chair and looked out into the ocean.
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as you gazed out into the empty blue haze, you saw something strange... was that... no. it couldn't be. as it got closer, your initial theory was affirmed. there was a boat, struggling against the aggressive waves. you thought it would be completely impossible. even if a crew did find themselves in the storm, the ocean would immediately swallow them up. somehow, this boat was hanging on.
the waves tossed the vessel at a whim, crashing it dangerously close to the jagged rocks on the coastline of your small island. you knew your stupid light would do the sailors no good at this point, so you just watched in abject horror, unable to do the very thing you were supposed to.
as the boat got closer, you began to make out a few figures on the boat. you counted four. four innocent men. you felt like something was being torn from your chest. how could you just stand by as the water swallowed those poor sailors up?
you rushed down the stairs, donning your poncho and fighting the wind all the way down to the beach. you spot the ship, crashing closer and closer to shore as the tide carries it into the island. you shriek when you see the ship’s hull get caught on a jagged rock. there’s no way they survived.
your heart is beating at a hundred miles a minute, and hot tears stark streaking down your cheeks. you should go inside. in fact, you already feel yourself catching cold, the tips of your fingers turning from red to purple. but… how could you just leave?
as you’re about to leave, a voice calls out to you.
“watcha crying over, hen?” you jump, the unfamiliar scottish voice shaking you from your frozen position. you turn around to find four men, all drenched and shaking from the cold.
two of them are holding a small wooden boat between them, tucked under a shoulder each.
“are you… is that… was that your boat?” you finally manage, pointing out at their lost vessel with quivering fingers.
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you lead the four men, whose names you've now learned, up the hill to your lighthouse. once you've all settled inside, you begin to get your affairs in order.
"okay... um. ok..." you look around, like there will be a hint in your surroundings. you find nothing.
"sorry. it's been a while since I've had company."
"no worries, dove." the one with the beard - john - reassured you. "we're not picky."
"you all want to shower!" you realize, your gaze finally landing on their soaked clothing. "you should shower. um... okay. the bathroom is down there." you point down the hall. "there's only one, but... um... yeah."
"thank you, love." you guessed he was the spokesman of the group. maybe the ships's captain? anyways, he was speaking to you the most.
"right. I'm gonna go try to find dry clothes for you all. and sheets. I need sheets. um... I think I can fit two of you in my bed. it's a queen. and then the couch, maybe? err... that makes three. we need five. so two can sleep on the floor somewhere." you were rambling now, you couldn't help it. you couldn't think of the last time another soul, aside from the previous inhabitants, had been in this lighthouse. and now four men were in the middle of your living room, making themselves easily at home. and you were on a nervous tangent about bedding arrangements.
you hurried yourself off to the basement, digging through the possessions that had been left behind throughout the years of lighthouse keepers. you managed to find a box full of men's clothes labelled 'Harrison,' as well as a very cute sweater that you may just have to keep for yourself. you made a mental note to go through the basement more thoroughly and returned upstairs to the four of them wrapped in towels, sitting on your couch.
cool. that's cool.
baaahhhh this is lowk bad....
part two is coming at some point eventually I just thought it was getting too long to put in one part and wanted to finally post this because I have sooo much sitting in my drafts
