Ever since childhood, my memories were tied to the sea.
I was born in a coastal town, not dissimilar to the one described in Haniver Island. My first prayers and my first hopes went out with my grandfather and waited, patiently to see him arrive with the first light of dawn, or the change of the tide.
My grandfather is nothing like Jethro, and yet, there is stuff that resonates. I recall him taking me out, on a small handcrafted boat cradled in the safety of the bay. When I asked to go further, he'd warn me that it would be terrible luck upon us all to go beyond, into the real deep. He never had the heart to tell me why, I had to discover it for myself, among many a maritime traditions carried across cultures, generation, after generation.
I didn't blame him. I would have been scared as well.
That constant warning in the back of his head that defied reasoning, gave way to my own monsters, and birthed this story that I hope you'll enjoy.
-Lynn
YOU ARE READING
Haniver Island
HorrorAfter years of absence, a young woman returns to her island home, revisiting demons she thought forgotten. This story was originally written for "Dark Dreams" an anthology by @tenebris_somnia. After been expanded to enter TNT's horror contest, it m...
