The Brave Little Boy on the Burning Ship
One day, as the sun began to set, enemy ships appeared on the horizon. Huge ships with cannons, flags waving, and sailors ready to fight. The sky turned gray, the sea started to churn, and suddenly — BOOM! BOOM! — cannonballs flew through the air!
The battle had begun.
The ship shook. Smoke filled the sky. Wood cracked, sails tore, men shouted. It was loud, frightening, and wild. Fire broke out on deck. Flames spread quickly, like angry monsters crawling across the floorboards.
“Fire! Fire!” someone yelled.
Sailors began to jump into the ocean, grabbing ropes, trying to escape. The ship was lost. There was no saving it.
But in the middle of all that chaos — there stood Casabianca.
All alone, on the deck that was now glowing with orange firelight.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t cry.
He didn’t run.
Instead, he stood tall, smoke swirling around him, and he shouted down to the lower deck where his father was.
“Papa! The ship is burning! Should I go?”
He waited.
No answer.
He called again.
“Papa? Can I leave now?”
But the truth is, his father couldn’t answer. He had been badly hurt in the battle and was already gone. Casabianca didn’t know that. He believed his papa would speak soon.
So he waited.
He stood on that burning deck, with sparks flying all around him, holding on to his father’s last order: “Stay where you are.”
The fire grew hotter.
The sky turned red.
And still — he waited.
Until finally… the flames reached everywhere. And the ship, with a thunderous roar, exploded into the sea. 🌊🔥
Casabianca’s small, brave body went down with it.