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I woke up at the morning sun rising. Did I really sleep that long? Although after a few minutes of waking up I did notice that we were not on water anymore. We were on an abandoned beach with a rundown pirate ship at the rocks by the sand. A lifeguard's stand already had a robe on it, but the whole thing was old and termite infested. There was also a lodge on the far end, but half of it was took by the pirate ship. By a look around I can see Marcus already made camp. I jogged toward him and sleepily said,
"Where are we?"
He just grinned and turned to face me, "'Tis be a rundown ghost beach."
"Ghost beach?" I've heard of ghost towns, and ghostly presences, but never a ghost BEACH.
"Aye. We're lucky we got 'ere at mornin. Or we'd already be zombies wonderin around 'til the first light."
"Thats reassuring.....So, how long are we going to be here?"
"Until noon. Got a problem with dat?"
"No no.." I uneasily said and sat down as the fire died down. Marcus already had a folded parasol set up, shielding us from the sun. I looked nervously at the pirate ship. The whole in it was not just from rocks.
I wondered how I knew this. Before I had time to think I saw a shadow next to me, but no one was there. I almost shouted "LOOK, MARCUS!" when it slowly rippled away.
I wasn't going to like it here.

I opened my eyes as my blurry vision adjusted. There was a black shape above me saying.
"'ake up. 'ake up...."
I stood up pushing off the figure from me. There was an aching pain in my head.
"Ah finally. You're awake, young boy." As my eyes focused, I realized we were on a raft in the middle of who-knows-where ocean...The mean on here was an African-American. His muscles rippled under his sweater.
"Where....Where am I? Who am I?" My head ached even more as I talked.
"Ah, amnesia, from the boat I see..."
"Boat?" I looked around trying to remember. I also noticed a small cat on board, liking it's paw.
"The freighter we were on earlier, young boy....You must of gotten a hit on the head. Pretty bad too..." I felt my head as my hair was oily and wet. When I looked at my hand, I realized it was blood. I yelped for only a slight minute.
"Tis bad I see....It'll heal up soon...."
I looked up, frightened. Under his eye he had a scar, from a sword. Around my back there was a bow, a deep red bow that was half the size of me. There was also a quiver, but it was empty all for except 2 bronze layered arrows.
I asked nervously "What's your name?"
"Marcus!"
"Your full name?"
"Nah.....'Tis just Marcus." He had a sword with a blue handel, incased in a silver case.
"Oh well....I can't remember mine...."
"Ah! It'll come back soon, young boy." I glanced nervously at the cat.
"And....the cat?"
Marcus cracked a small smile and said, "Thats Stew Cat."
"Stew Cat? What kind of a name is--"
"I named the li'l bugger that because when I found 'im he nearly got roasted."
"Oh...."

It was hot on that horrid raft. A metallic sweat mixxed with the blood that was running down my forehead. I wiped it off and sighed. My head was pounding.
"How old are you?"
"Sumw'ere 'round twenty. You look around eleven or twelve, young boy. By the 'ay you 'etter sit 'own and rest that head." He reached in his soggy back pack and pulled out a small ragged pillow. He tossed to me and I layed on it. Soon I was numbed by my head and fell asleep....