A shout, whipped away in the wind. The lurching sensation of falling and then cold, lonely darkness.
He comes back to life with a panicked gasp. Numbness tingles in his pale, shivering limbs; but he curls in on himself for comfort more than anything else. Harsh winds pound at his skin though his sodden clothes, and salt crumbles away from his eyes as he peels them open. Acid burns at the back of his throat; he retches, brine staining the sand like the shadows of light filtering though trees. For a few moments all his strength goes into listening to the comforting sound of the ocean and lowering his racing heartbeat.
Where am I? His mind whispers when he pushes himself up on unsteady legs, stiff from overuse. Fog swallows up the edges of the beach, but he can just make out thick foliage receding into whatever island he's washed up on, some part of him glad that he won't, at least, starve. Fatigue stretches his muscles taut like rigging on a ship, exhaustion feeling familiar when everything else doesn't.
Despite a growing headache, he fruitlessly searches for a last memory, a detail about his life, a name - something. Dread trickles down his neck and a sob wrenches unbidden from his quivering lips.
He is no one. He has no one. He is alone.
The pain of the last thought stings more than any of his cuts and scrapes bathed in seawater. His knees buckle, strength diminished and his head hangs.
He is alone
Edit: there are formatting issues with this story that I can't fix, no matter how many times I try to. I ask that you please ignore them and enjoy the story!