Hi everyone! SO this is my first attempt at a POTC FF and I'm super excited! Thank you so much for taking your time to read my little story. It means the world to me. Sorry this chapter is slow, I had to set the scene and let you get to know Freya c: A review would be very welcoming, good or bad. Happy reading!

P.s

Song: London Grammar- Wasting my young years: watch?v=pkeDBwsIaZw

There is nothing quite like an Australian summer.

Cloudless skies, salty sea breezes and cold beers come to mind. Summer equaled freedom, freedom that I always so desperately tried to cling to. However, my attempts were always futile. I could only stand by idly and watch my days pass me by.

This summer was different though, I could feel it. There were no more commitments, no more schedules and no more worrying. I was free. Free to surf, to sketch and to read to my heart's content.

It was 5:20 am.

The soft tinkling of bells echoed through my bedroom. Reaching over I gently turned off my alarm, the memories of last night's dream still fresh.

I dreamt of open sea, the way light danced off its waves. It seemed to be a common dream, that of the sea. I'd been fascinated with it since I was a child. My father, a fisherman, took me out on our boat every weekend. Together we would watch the sunset as he told me stories about faraway places, where there was magic and undying love. He would marvel me with tales of mermaids, pirates and magic. He would tell me the stories of our world, of history. He was a fountain of knowledge, my father.

That was until the day he died.

Still lying in bed I gazed up at my ceiling. It was complete chaos up there, in my heavens. Sketches and watercolours covered it in its entirety. Right in the centre of it all was him. He looked down at me, with those green eyes we shared. How I wished I could have pull him from the parchment. Unfortunately things like that only happened in his stories.

Needing to wake up I rolled out of bed. Dragging myself to the window across my room I pushed it open. Instantly I was greeted by the familiar scent of the sea. It looked perfect. The sun would rise soon and I wanted to be down there when it happened.

Quickly I swapped my silken nighty for a one-piece bathing suit. Standing in the mirror for a moment I admired my hair. Only a few days ago I attempted a home dye job, with very low expectations. However when removing the towel wrap from my head I was greeted with a surprising image.

My hair was the colour of flames.

Looking at it now I smiled satisfied. Hastily I chucked it into a tight ponytail, pulling back every strand off my face. Moving on from the mirror I grabbed my back-pack and threw in my beach necessities. My phone, lip balm and wax for my board just to name a few. Flinging it onto my back I made my way to the door, quietly shutting it behind me. Treading gently I snuck down the hallway past my mother's room and into the kitchen. I took a cold bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it into my bag, along with my favourite beach towel from the laundry. I wrote a little note and left it on the kitchen table, just in case.

Morning mum,

Just heading down to the surf. No surprise, I know.

Love you, Freya.

Heading outside I grabbed my bike and board and secured the two together. I placed my headphones in my ears and set off. The morning breeze was cool against my skin, waking my tired eyes. As I cycled lazily towards the beach London Grammar played. I sung along in my head, not wanting to draw attention to myself from the other early risers.

'I'm wasting my young years
It doesn't matter
I'm chasing old ideas
It doesn't matter'

Pulling up to the beach I noticed it was completely empty. Shaking my head in disbelief I locked up my bike and untied my board. With my bag on my back and my board resting against my hip I jogged to the sand. I quickly threw my bag down and began to readied myself for the water. I wrapped my leash tightly around my ankle, stretched then strolled towards the shore.

Placing one foot into the oncoming wave I tested the water. It was cold, but I expected that. Taking a slow, deep breath I allowed myself no second thought and I shot through the water, diving directly into an oncoming wave with my board. Coming up the other side, my body began to overflow with adrenaline. Using my new found energy I paddled out deeper, ignoring the chill shooting through my body. I pushed myself upright into a seating position and straddled my board, giving me a moment to take in my surroundings. No matter how many times I came down here, the view never ceased to amaze me. The sun had finally begun to rise from the east, casting a pink hue across the morning sky. I happily remained there absolutely mesmerised. So lost in thought I noticed nothing around me, no sound or sight.

That was until the wind picked up.

It rushed past my ears so loud and sudden I was forced to raised my hands to cover them. My wet pony tail began to thrash against my face. Perplexed I looked up to the skies once more. The cotton candy clouds had disappeared and were replaced by menacing, grey ones.

Something small and wet slid down my cheek.

A raindrop?

Wiping it from my face I furrowed my brow. They began to fall, quickly, each one seeming to gain more volume. Utterly confused I twisted my head over my shoulder. Facing the west, the horizon, my heart stopped.

I was face to face with what had to be a 40ft wave.

Shit.

Panicking I spun back around and frantically tried to propel myself back to shore. But the wave behind me kept building, dragging be back with it. I could feel its power underneath me. The rain was falling so fast now it blurred my vision.

And then I felt the back of my board go under the wave.

I screamed, tumbling into darkness, the wave consuming me.

My leash slipped from my foot and the board was ripped from my grasp. My mouth filled with salt water, my ears with the sound of rushing waves. I struggled, thrashed and kicked. But it was all in vain, my body was too weak to fight against the storm. I started to slip away, to black out. As I sunk to the bottom of the Indian Ocean my last thought was of my father.

I'll be with you soon Dad.