He checked his watch. It was almost midnight. The light of the moon shone bright, casting long, shadowy figures on the sand. He thought about the stories his grandfather told him, tales of seamen lost at sea, lured to their doom by the siren call of the ocean.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed across the water. Ben's heart beat faster. He ran to the edge of the cliff, peering into the dark. A ship was caught in the storm, its mast snapping like a twig.
He grabbed his lantern, the flame flickering with fear. With a determined stride, he descended the treacherous path towards the shore. The waves were now huge, and the ship was sinking fast.
Ben, with the strength of a man possessed, reached the ship just as it began to break apart. He saw a young woman clinging to a piece of wood. She was pale and weak, her eyes filled with terror.
He pulled her to safety, her cold hand gripping his firmly. He carried her back to the lighthouse, where he warmed her and gave her food.
As the sun rose, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Ben looked at the young woman, her face now rosy with health. He realized that the storm had not only brought destruction, but also a chance to save a life. He had faced his fears and found his own strength. And he knew, deep in his heart, that he would never forget the night he heard the siren's call, not of the ocean, but of his own courage.