Hakim's Last Hope

Hakim gazed at the azure-blue sky, his dark brows furrowing with unease. Something was not right about the way the sky looked. The clouds were gathering ominously on the horizon, and the wind had picked up a touch. Hakim knew that he should head back to shore, but he was determined to catch enough fish to feed his family.
He pushed his uneasy feelings aside and began to prepare his boat for the day's catch. The sun beat down on his weathered skin, and his coarse hair, bound into a ponytail, swayed in the gentle breeze.
At midday, the storm hit with a vengeance. The waves swelled and crashed against the hull of his boat, rocking it precariously. Hakim gripped the sides tightly, his knuckles turning white. The wind howled, whipping up a spray of salty water that stung his eyes.
Out of nowhere, a sudden gust of wind capsized the boat, pitching Hakim into the churning sea. He struggled to the surface, gasping for air. His boat was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the horizon desperately, but all he could see was waves.
Hakim's hands grasped something solid, and he clung to it desperately. It was just an eroded piece of driftwood, but to him it was as much hope as an oasis in the desert.
The churning sea sprayed him with water, and the ocean's cold seeped into his body. His fingers were already numb. The waves kept tossing him about like a toy, every wave taking his breath away. He tried to keep his head above water, but the sea seemed to be pulling him under.
Hakim's vision blurred, and he felt his strength waning. He tried to grasp on to the driftwood, but it slipped from his fingers. The waves crashed over him, and he disappeared beneath the surface.
Dark blue light surrounded him as he sank deeper. He struggled to get back to the surface, but the sea seemed to pull him under. His next frantic breath only found seawater instead of air. The next threw him into blackness.