Denny sighed; tonight there would be a terrible storm. The sea was almost up to his door step. The walked out off the porch leading to the deck. The storm was coming in quickly. He pulled in his fishing nets, it wasn't a very fruitful "harvest" for him, only seaweed and a couple of crabs tangled up. He noticed crabs had cut through the net again. He sat down and tied a few knots to repair it.

He sighed and looked out to sea. It was nearly pitch black. As he was walking in, he noticed a black figure lying on the shore; it didn't look like a fish. He ran inside to grab a lantern and quickly hurried over to the mysterious thing washed up.

The light revealed a young woman, not much younger than him. "Oh, shit…" he whispered to himself. Her clothes were tattered and torn and she has bruises and cuts. She must have been in an accident from the storm. He felt her hand, it was cold. But her chest was rising, only a little. She was alive, thank god.

He shook her, she was unconscious. He picked her limp body up in his arms and carried her to his beach shack by the dock. He laid her down on the mat he had rolled out for himself to sleep on, but he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. He lit his fire place and warmed some water. He grabbed extra blankets to cover her with. It was about mid march, and still chilly. She was nearly frozen from the water; it's amazing she's still alive.

He sat up all night, listening to the storm crash over them, and the sea pounding against the shore. She was warming up, her face was no longer blue. He sighed in relief. He'd never taken care of someone before, but somehow he knew what he was doing.

He stayed up watching her until nearly 5 in the morning and he heard the girl snoring, he knew she was okay. He dozed off next to her. They were both sound asleep.

"…ugh… W-where… where am I?.." The girl sat up and looked around. Denny was laying next to her asleep. She kneeled next to him and shook him.

"HUH? What!" He said startled. He then realized who was waking him up. A pair of big glassy blue eyes with dark circles underneath stared into his. He sat up to look at her. "How are you feeling? You were washed up on the shore last night, I brought you in. Is anything hurting you?"

She looked confused. "Who are you?"

"oh. I'm Denny. And you're on Sprout Island right now." He smiled and walked over to the fire place. He put more wood into the flame. "Are you hurt?"

She tried to stand up too, but failed and landed on her back. ."…My legs… and my head.. ow.. my head…" She rubbed a big bruise on her head, and looked at her legs. There was a bandage wrapping all around her left thigh, blood leaked through a little. "What happened… who am I?"

He sat down next to her. "I was about to ask you the same thing… do you remember anything?" He pressed a wet rag to her forehead.

"..The only thing I remember is.. Being on a boat... And… My name... I think is Chelsea." She held the rag to her bruise. "I think I was in a ship wreck… I don't know."

"Okay, well, Chelsea are you hungry? Lets worry about getting you better right now…"

"Yes I'm hungry…" she laid down. She was very confused, and she was in pain.

He fixed a meal of bread and grilled fish. They ate and they both fell asleep soon after.